


The Little Mistress

by FalconHonour



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fussy Baby, Gen, Spoilt child, Temper Tantrums, Victorian, cranky baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-12 05:22:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12952224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalconHonour/pseuds/FalconHonour
Summary: On the day of the Prince and Princess of Wales's marriage, 10 March, 1863, a little girl is born to Charles and Adeline Rowland of Belgrave Square. Adeline has always wanted a daughter, so the little girl is given everything her little heart desires. Everything. No wonder she grows up thinking of herself as the little mistress of the house...





	1. Birth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sams_Princess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sams_Princess/gifts).



> This is a story I've toyed with for years, but am finally getting around to writing... Enjoy! PS: I intend to take this story through Alexandra's babyhood and toddler years right up to her society debut, so ideas for tantrums/naughty behaviour will be very much appreciated!

_10 March 1863_

The sun shines through the slightly open window, illuminating the beads of sweat on the groaning woman's forehead. The maid at her side starts to wipe them away, but stops as her mistress jerks upright with yet another bloodcurdling scream.

"That's it, Ma'am. One more push. I can see the head already. One more push, Ma'am." The third woman in the room calls encouragingly, leaning forward to grasp the rapidly coming child by the shoulders and help it into the world.

With one last heaving push, the mother succeeds in pushing her child into the world, slumping back with exhaustion as she hears its first piercing cry.

A cry that goes on and on, rising in pitch and intensity as the midwife struggles to wash and swaddle the babe in warm, comfortable cloths.

"She's a spirited one, this one, Ma'am. You'll have your hands full with her." She chuckles as she turns back to the bed.

"I have a daughter then, Mrs Peters?” The young woman struggles into a sitting position, holding out her arms. Her honey-brown hair is dark with sweat, and her exhausted pallor is almost unhealthy, but there is no denying the delight in her eyes at the midwife’s words.

"Aye, Ma'am. A beautiful, healthy girl.”

As the new mother catches sight of her child, her heart visibly melts. She gasps for breath.

"Oh!" Cradling the new born infant close, she gazes down into the little girl’s face.

“I’ve always wanted a daughter,” she breathes, “I love the boys, but God knows I’ve always dreamed of having a daughter.”

 Then, as if fearing she’s let too much slip, been too informal around the servants, her mask comes back down, hard as iron. Her head whirls around to catch her maid in an iron gaze and she snaps, "Fetch my husband, Mary."

The maid who has been standing nearby all through the ordeal nods, dips a silent curtsy and is gone within moments.

Peace reigns in the little room as the babe, as though realising she is in her mother's arms, quiets and looks around, big dark eyes blinking as she takes in her surroundings.

"She knows her mother, Ma'am." Mrs Peters ventures one last comment, to which the other woman nods gratefully, but their uneasy camaraderie is broken as the shadow of a tall, broad-shouldered man falls across the doorway.

"I hear we have a daughter, Adeline."

"Yes, Charles. Would you like to see her?" Adeline holds the child out to her husband in a silent offering and he nods and crosses towards the bed. Thus silently dismissed, Mrs Peters bobs a curtsy and slips from the room.

Left alone, the two parents gaze down at their new daughter, both enchanted by her.

“She looks more like you than the boys do,” Adeline murmurs, after a few moments, “She’s got your dark eyes and hair.”

“Perhaps. But I’ve a feeling she’s going to be your pet, isn’t she?” Charles glances up at Adeline teasingly and she chuckles, too happy to deny it.

“You know I’ve always wanted a daughter. Besides, look at her. How could anyone ever do anything but spoil this child? She’s utterly charming.”

And indeed, the little girl is charming. She seems far too alive and intent for a child only minutes old. Now that she is calm and relaxed in her mother's arms, she seems to be surveying the room as though it were her castle, a fact her father is quick to remark upon.

"She seems to be acting quite the little Queen there, Adeline."

"Shall we name her for the Queen, then? Shall we name her Victoria?" Adeline chances a glance at her husband and is relieved to see that he too is gazing at the girl in her arms adoringly.

Yet he shakes his head at her suggestion. "Victoria doesn't suit her. Perhaps as her middle name, but not as her first name. She has too much spirit in her eyes for that. An all-conquering spirit."

"Alexandra." The name comes to Adeline almost without her having to think about it, “For our new Princess of Wales. After all, she has been born on the royal wedding day, has she not?  We could call her Alexandra Victoria."

"Alexandra Victoria." Charles reaches for his new daughter and rocks her in his arms gently as he tries her name out for the first time.

"Alexandra Victoria. I like it." He repeats the name over and over, more and more taken with it every time he says it. When the baby suddenly gurgles and snatches at his finger as he speaks, his mind is made up. Oh rationally, he knows her behaviour is out of her control and her actions happen purely by chance, but all the same, he can’t help but think that she is approving of her new name.

"Alexandra Victoria it is. Miss Alexandra Victoria Rowland.”

Charles pauses, pleased despite himself at how the name rings through the room. Tearing his eyes away from the baby at last, he catches Adeline’s eye. “Alexandra Victoria Rowland. She’ll be our little Princess, Adeline. No one will ever be able to gainsay her anything. Not with a name like that."

Little does Charles know how true those words; words he speaks half in jest, will be proved.


	2. First Night

Katherine Woodson is a sensible woman who has handled many families and infants in her time as a nanny. She knows that the first few hours of a child’s life are often the most precious, as far as a new parent is concerned, and that handing the infant over to her charge is quite a wrench, especially given how exhausted and emotional the new mother inevitably is in the aftermath of the birth.

Moreover, she knows the Rowlands. She has served as their nanny for over five years, ever since their eldest son, Master David was born. She knows how delicate the Mistress is, how hard she tries to hide her insecurity behind a mask of haughtiness, how much she has secretly longed for a daughter. So, even before she goes into the Mistress’s bedroom, she knows this will be an awkward encounter for them both.

Even so, however, she is not expecting just how soft the Mistress’s eyes will be as she gazes down at the baby in her arms, how closely she will be holding her.  Katherine scarcely dares interrupt the precious moment. On the other hand, however, there is no better time to do so. The wet-nurse has been in to see the mistress, the child will have been fed by now. The tiny bladder and bowels will move before long and, however much the mistress has desired a daughter, she is not the kind of woman to want to involve herself in the messier aspects of the child.

“Ma’am,” she curtsies by the bed, speaking in a whisper so as not to disturb the child dozing in her mother’s arms, “I’m told you have a new charge for me?”

Mistress Adeline glances up, “Oh, Nanny. Yes, I do. This is Miss Alexandra.”

Katherine nods, “She’s a beautiful child, Ma’am.” She extends her arms, but the Mistress is reluctant to yield her precious burden so quickly.

“I am entrusting you with my dearest treasure, do you understand? Nothing is to be too good for this little girl, do you hear me? Nothing.”

“Of course, Ma’am. You needn’t fret. I’ve years of experience with babies, I know what they do and do not like.” Despite herself, Katherine is hard pressed to keep an undertone of irritation out of her voice. It’s all very well for the Mistress to have ideas about how the nursery should be run, but for her to presume to tell Katherine how to do her job, when all Adeline Rowland knows of babies is the hour a day she spends with Master David and Master Edward, neither of whom are truly babies anymore, well, it rankles to say the least.

The Mistress’s eyes harden and Katherine knows she hasn’t been quite subservient enough. Quickly, she dips her head, but not quite quickly enough. There is an edge of iron to the mistress’s voice as she speaks again.

“That’s as may be, Nanny, but you have never handled my daughter before. You will give her whatever she wants whenever she wants it, is that clear?”

“Begging your pardon, Mistress, but babies thrive on a routine. It would be better to settle the young mistress into that from the beginning.”

“You will give her whatever she wants whenever she wants it, is that clear?”

The Mistress’s voice is implacable, bitter. Katherine opens her mouth, intending to argue further, but, in that instant, she sees the little one begin to wriggle in her mother’s arms. Some demand will no doubt be forthcoming. As such, arguments will have to be suspended until the Mistress is less exhausted and hence, hopefully, more reasonable. Katherine nods, “As you say, Ma’am.”

Mistress Adeline stares at her hard for a few more seconds. Katherine holds her breath, but the younger woman simply huffs and lays her treasured daughter down into her arms.

The child whines slightly at the change in position, but Katherine has anticipated this and simply allows her to nestle closer, murmuring to her. Miss Alexandra quietens, content for the moment to simply lie observing this newcomer into her life.

Katherine thinks nothing of it at the time, but unlike when she took Master David and Master Edward into her charge, Miss Alexandra has passed directly from her mother’s arms into hers. Indeed, Miss Alexandra has never yet been put down.

It isn’t until later – much later – that Katherine reflects on that moment and wonders if that first hour of the young mistress’s life set the tone of her character for the rest of her babyhood.

* * *

Returning to the nursery, Katherine takes a moment to check on Master David and Master Edward, both of whom are eating their tea under the watchful eye of Hannah, their nursery maid. She nods in approval, for even three-year-old Master Edward is sitting nicely, not swinging his legs as is his usual wont.

“Good boys. Finish your tea and then you can come and meet your new sister.”

She settles herself on a chair by the fire, and balances Miss Alexandra on her knee. Noticing the girl has wet herself, she swiftly sets about changing her before the little one can become aware of her discomfort. Before long, the boys are gathering around her, peering curiously down at their little sister.

“She’s so small!” Master Edward cries, as most young ones do when confronted with a baby for the first time. From his position of superiority as the big brother, Master David snorts, “I remember you as a baby, Ned. You were just as small!”

“Was not!” Master Edward cries, but he is too distracted by the baby in Katherine’s arms to really retort and cause an argument. He reaches out to poke his sister’s nose and Katherine has to react quickly to catch his hand.

“No, Master Edward. Not like that. Your sister’s too small for you to be rough with her. You have to be gentle, see?”

Good-natured as usual, Master Edward takes the reprimand well. The boys hover for a few moments more, but a sleepy baby has little to hold the attention of three and five-year-old boys. Before long, they have drifted off to play with their hobby horses. Master David can soon be heard claiming he is Sir Colin Campbell, riding to the succour of the besieged in Lucknow.

Miss Alexandra, too, is drifting off, but to sleep rather than play. She has been lulled by the warmth of the fire and Katherine’s arms and her little eyelids are flickering.

Without a word, Katherine rises, and takes her into the small room off the night nursery set aside for an infant’s use, where a freshly-sanded and painted crib awaits its occupant, soft lambswool blankets smoothed in readiness.

Katherine leans over the crib and lays the little girl down gently, humming a lullaby as she does so. The little one must be exhausted. No doubt she’ll be off in moments.

So confident is Katherine in her prediction that it is a nasty shock when, the moment Miss Alexandra’s back touches the crib mattress, her dark eyes snap open. For an instant, they simply look at each other, frozen in time, before Miss Alexandra’s rosebud mouth rips wide into an ‘o’ and she screams. Not just fusses, but full-on screams.

Katherine quickly reaches in and repositions the little girl. This time, she keeps her hand on the child as she hums, ‘Hush-a-bye baby’.  Miss Alexandra was comfortable in her arms. Perhaps she let go of the little girl too quickly.

Miss Alexandra, however, is having none of it. She flails and writhes under Katherine’s hand, her face purpling in temper.

 _“How dare you put me down?!”_ she seems to be saying, “ _How dare you?”_

“Hush, Miss Alexandra, hush,” Katherine murmurs, but even as she says it, something tells her it’s not going to work. Sighing, she scoops the little one up again, cradling her close.

“Hush, Miss Alexandra, hush,” she repeats.

By this point, however, even Katherine’s body warmth isn’t enough to soothe the little mistress. She wails crossly, little eyes pinched shut. It is only when Katherine begins to pace the room that she begins to settle, soothed by the swinging motion.

Even then, however, she seems to sense whenever Katherine so much as thinks of putting her in her crib, her eyes snapping open every time Katherine pauses for more than a few seconds. It is clear that, even at only hours old, she knows what she wants and is prepared to kick up a fuss to get it.

* * *

 

It takes another two hours, complete with another feed and change and so many revolutions of the little room, rocking and shushing as she goes, that Katherine has lost count, before Miss Alexandra falls deeply enough asleep that Katherine can risk laying her in her crib and sneaking out of the room.

Hannah, having seen the boys to bed, is just tidying up the young masters’ toys. She glances up, surprised.

“Have you been in there all this time? Has she only just gone off?”

Katherine knows she should reprimand Hannah for speaking so bluntly. Hierarchy is important, after all. But, when it comes down to it, she is so stunned that such a little person could cause her so much trouble, and so exhausted from having been in constant motion for close on two hours, that she can’t muster up the energy.  Instead, she sinks into her chair by the fire and nods, exhaling.

“She’s a determined little thing. She wouldn’t close her eyes unless I was walking her. I just hope she’s settled in for a bit now.”

Hannah hums in agreement, and Katherine hesitates. “The young masters?”

“Both safely in the land of nod. Master Edward asked whether you’d hear his prayers, but I told him you were busy tonight and that was it. No fuss from either of them.”

“Good.” Katherine exhales and leans back in her chair, “Make us both a posset, would you? I could do with it after that.”

Hannah nods, hurrying over to the stove in the corner and busying herself with a pan.

Katherine has taken no more than a couple of swallows of hers when a furious wail erupts from the next room. Miss Alexandra has hardly been asleep a quarter of an hour, if that, but she has woken cold, lonely, frightened and angry and she doesn’t care who knows it.

Hannah glances at Katherine. The older woman holds up a hand, “Give it a minute or two. Let’s see if she’s too exhausted to stay awake.”

The baby refuses, however, to take no for an answer. She screeches and screeches, only too clearly wanting someone to go to her. At last, Katherine heaves herself to her feet.

“Well, she knows what she wants, doesn’t she? I’d better see to her.”

Miss Alexandra is beetroot-red when Katherine picks her up, little face creased in rage. She seems to glare at Katherine accusingly, as if to say ‘ _I know what you tried to do and I don’t like it! I don’t like it!”_

Being paced round the room, however, soon soothes her back to sleep. Walking the room with a suddenly angelic baby in her arms, Katherine can only hope that this is the worst it will get, that the shock of being born has over-stimulated the child and, once she is used to the nursery and the people in it, she will be easier to settle. If not, the next few months may well come to simulate Hell on Earth for the inhabitants of 12 Belgrave Square.

 


	3. First Weeks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the complete chapters I have written out - I have plenty of odd scenes left over from Alexandra's toddler years and childhood but need to work out how to hammer them into a coherent story... Unless you'd rather have a collection of one-shots now we've set up the universe? Let me know!

It is just as well Charles’s position in the India Office pays well enough for the Rowlands to be able to keep a nursery-maid as well as a nanny, a cook, a governess for Master David and a housemaid who doubles as Adeline’s lady’s maid.

It is also just as well that Master David, at five, is under the supervision of his governess Hope Branwell far more than Katherine’s and that three-year-old Master Edward is a good-natured child happy to play alone for long periods of time.

 After all, were it not for Hannah and Master Edward’s patient temperament, Katherine would never be able to get half the things she needs to done in the months following Miss Alexandra’s birth.

On paper, Miss Alexandra might seem an easier child than her older brother David was in his infancy, for at least she doesn’t have colic in quite the same way he did. Her needs are as regular as clockwork and her cries piercing and distinctive. It is always easy to distinguish her hunger from her need to be changed and vice versa. Nor is it impossible to quiet her.

But that is before one takes her refusal to be put down into account.

In practice, the only way to quiet her screams, other than to feed her, is to hold her. To hold her and keep moving.

She doesn’t mind whether that movement is from a rocking chair or from someone walking up and down, but she has to be held during it, which means putting her in a cradle and rocking that with one’s feet is impossible. Whenever Katherine or Hannah tries it, she screws up her little face and thrashes angrily, wailing as though her heart has broken. If they don’t yield to her demands to be picked up quickly enough, she will simply work herself into such a temper that she spews vomit everywhere.

Even if they do pick her up in time to prevent her being sick, it is as if she is furious with them for having had the gall to put her down in the first place. For the first couple of minutes after they have given in, she will ignore the fact that she has been given her own way and simply keep screaming, as though to punish them for their neglect.

As for soothing her off to sleep, well, the same principle applies. As long as she feels safe and cosseted in a pair of arms that are swinging her gently around, she will sleep for up to two hours at a time before she wakes for a feed and a change, but try to sit still or to put her down and her eyes will snap open.

Her eyes will snap open, there will be a few seconds of blissful silence as she takes in what has happened, and then she will begin screeching her indignation. Screeching so loudly and furiously that she is impossible to ignore.

Katherine has never known a more demanding child. Sometimes, when she is most at her wits’ end, in the early hours of the morning, it is all she can do not to leave Miss Alexandra to cry. Indeed, if it were up to her, she would. But there are the young masters to consider as well. It wouldn’t be fair to disturb their sleep simply to teach their little sister some manners. They already lose out on so much of the attention that should be theirs simply because the baby of the family can’t be left alone for so much as a minute. The least they deserve in recompense is a good night’s rest. Not to mention that, worn out as they are by the little madam’s antics, Hannah and Katherine probably wouldn’t be able to cope with the kind of misbehaviour the boys would get into if they were overtired.

Besides, Mistress Adeline has made it very clear what she expects of Katherine. She might not have said it in so many words, but she obviously dotes on her little girl to distraction and expects the staff to do the same. She would be furious if she knew that Katherine had deliberately ignored her little girl’s distress, and, at this point in time, Katherine doesn’t have the energy to try to assert her authority over the nursery in the face of the Mistress’s icy disdain.

For all those reasons, therefore, there is nothing Katherine, Hannah and the wet nurse can do but take it in turns to walk around with the little one at all hours of the day or night, sleeping in shifts to keep from being pushed beyond the pale of exhaustion. By the time Miss Alexandra is ten weeks old, they have begun to wear a path on the floorboards of the baby’s room from their constant circles of the little room.

Yet, throughout all this, Mistress Adeline regularly calls for her daughter to be brought downstairs to spend time in her parlour. She never seems to tire of doing so, nor to resent her little daughter’s temper, not even for an instant. In her more lucid moments, Katherine sometimes wonders how the Mistress, fastidious and highly-strung as she is, copes with her youngest’s demanding temperament, but she doesn’t have the energy to work it out.

* * *

“Now, Adeline, I hear you have a new little one,” Isabelle Curlew, one of Adeline’s closest friends, gushes, as soon as Mary has handed her the tea tray, curtsied and stepped back, “When am I going to be lucky enough to meet her?”

Adeline sits back, eyes laughing smugly, “Would you like to?”

“Oh, of course!” Isabelle nods and Adeline laughs, “Then you shall. And I declare you’ll never see a prettier child. Mary,” she turns to the maid, who is hovering by the door, “Run up to the nursery and tell Nanny to bring Miss Alexandra down to meet Isabelle.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Mary curtsies and is gone. A couple of minutes of later, Hannah enters, the daughter of the house snugly in her arms. Having just been carried down the stairs and freshly washed and changed, Miss Alexandra is at her most cherubic, gurgling happily as her mother reaches for her.

“Here she is, my little Princess. Come to Mama, Ally, darling. Come to Mama!”

Alexandra whines slightly as Hannah hands her over, but Adeline pays no attention to that, chucking her little girl under the chin and cooing to her.

“Who’s the prettiest girl in the Empire? You are, aren’t you? Yes, you are. You’re Mama’s darling, and you know it, don’t you? Don’t you?”

Instinctively, she rocks Alexandra, quietening her whimpers before they can even begin. After a few seconds, she stops, but, distracted by the unfamiliar person in the room and the surroundings, which, despite being her mother’s parlour, are less well-known to her than the nursery, Alexandra doesn’t think to cry before Isabelle is reaching out to take her in her own arms.

“May I?”

“But of course, dearest. Have you ever seen a prettier child?”

Adeline hands the baby over, and, stimulated in a way she isn’t upstairs, Alexandra lets herself be repositioned without so much as a murmur. Isabelle bounces her lightly, cooing.

“Hello, sweetheart. You are your father’s daughter, aren’t you? You’ve definitely got the Rowland colouring.”

“Hmm. Unlike her older brothers,” Adeline chuckles. Isabelle glances up.

“Do you mind that?”

“Not in the least. As Charles pointed out the day she was born, Ally is going to be my little pet in a way the boys can’t be, given that she won’t be going to boarding school like they will. She may as well at least look like her father. And besides, look at those eyes. How could you possibly refuse them anything?”

Isabelle flushes lightly. Something in how open Adeline is about how much she longs to spoil the baby in her arms doesn’t sound quite right to her, but she can’t work out what it is. At last, she shakes it off. What does she know of having a daughter? All she’s got are sons, and Alexandra is a darling. It’s no wonder Adeline intends to indulge her a bit. Besides, aren’t the staff supposed to be the ones looking after the child more than Adeline? Surely teaching the little girl right from wrong is more their domain.

She passes the baby back, and the two spend a pleasant half hour sharing the little girl between them. They devote their every breath to entertaining her, be that by bouncing her, by tickling her little legs or by waving little ribbons above her head for her to snatch at. As is often the way for difficult babies, Alexandra much prefers having more people and unusual activity around her, and so, to her credit, she doesn’t cry once.

Eventually, however, even having the undivided attention of two women at her disposal wears thin and her cherubic mood changes. The brewing storm is prompted, in large part, by the movement of her bowels. She wrinkles her little nose, grunts softly a couple of times and then wriggles in discomfort, preparing to voice her distress.

Adeline, who has been watching her daughter like a hawk, attuned to her every shift in mood, immediately rings for Mary.

“I think Miss Alexandra has had enough company for now, Mary. Take her back to the nursery,” she orders, before kissing her squirming daughter on the brow and allowing her to be swept back upstairs. As usual, Adeline ignores the way the child’s wails rise in pitch and intensity as she leaves. She might love her daughter, but her temper isn’t her problem. She’s had her fun, shown her little girl off for the angel she is. Now it’s time for Nanny to see to her.

Adeline doesn’t see anything odd in her way of thinking. Benign indulgence was the way she was brought up, so she doesn’t see how it needs to be any different for her own daughter.

* * *

The young masters are incredibly well-behaved, really, given their ages and the circumstances, but even Master Edward, that rare thing, a patient toddler, eventually tires of hearing his little sister scream the roof off the nursery every time Nanny and Hannah try to play with him for more than a few seconds.

One night, when Hannah is taking her turn at walking the baby to sleep, and Nanny is tucking him in, the way she used to before Ally arrived, he asks her what he’s been wondering for ages.

“Will Ally ever be quiet, Nanny?”

Katherine’s heart clenches at the simple question. She wishes she had a better answer for the little boy, who is so golden, inside and out, and who has lost out on so much since his place as the youngest was usurped, by his demanding little sister, but she simply doesn’t. She slips her arm around him.

“I hope so, Master Edward. I hope so. But Miss Alexandra is very very little right now, so she needs a lot more of our attention than you and your brother do. You’re doing really well, being such a good big boy. Do you think you can keep it up for us?”

Edward hesitates, then nods. Nanny ruffles his head.

“Good lad. Now, down to sleep, hmm?”

Edward nods, and nestles down.  Katherine glances at him, wishing with all her heart that Miss Alexandra was so easy to settle. She blesses him and then heads for the door. Just before she reaches it, a plaintive whisper stops her in her tracks.

“I thought having a little sister would be fun. I thought I’d be able to play with her when Davey was busy with Miss Gordon.”

Katherine’s heart wrenches. There is so much disappointed hope in that simple statement. How can she answer him, when she doesn’t have a good answer to give him?

“And you will, Master Edward,” she says at last, “You will. Miss Alexandra’s just a little too young right now, that’s all. Things will be better when she’s older. I promise. Things will be better than she’s older.”

She knows it is far from a satisfactory answer to give a three-year-old, but it is all she has. The idea that this furious, noisy phase cannot last forever is the only thought that is keeping her from losing her mind, after all.

Not knowing what else to say, she waits a few moments for the little boy’s breathing to even out and then sets a candle on the nightstand and leaves the room, steeling herself to have to take her turn with the fractious Miss Alexandra as she does so.

She fervently hopes that the little girl will be easier when she’s older. She doesn’t know what she’ll do if she isn’t.


	4. Chapter 4: 14 Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wanted to see what Alexandra was like as she learned to walk and talk, so here she is at fourteen months, just learning to walk and deep in the midst of an early fit of the 'terrible twos'... This and next chapter also show a glimpse of her being the angel she already knows she has to be for her mother... Enjoy!

The May sunshine streams through the nursery window, catching the golden hair of the two little boys seated at the table as they bend over their bowls, scooping porridge eagerly into their mouths. Further down the table, a darker little girl is perched on a nursemaid’s lap, waving her arms around. At first glance, it seems a quiet, idyllic scene.

It would be, were the fourteen-month old girl not pouting and turning her head away from the nursemaid’s proffered spoon, shrieking.

“Oh, what is it, Miss Alexandra? You love your porridge. Look, it’s got brown sugar on it, just the way you like it,” Hannah cajoles, turning the spoon back towards the toddler’s mouth, expecting her to open up this time. This is just a fit of temper. Goodness knows she’s starting to show those, now that she’s becoming more independent.

But Miss Alexandra refuses. She hasn’t learnt to speak yet, but she doesn’t need to. Her shrieks and flailing kicks are quite enough to make her meaning clear.

Suddenly, she stills, then snatches at the bowl balanced on the edge of the table. She doesn’t quite get hold of it, but she tips it enough for gravity to do the rest of the work.  The bowl falls, and porridge splatters everywhere.

“Miss Alexandra!” Hannah cries indignantly. Katherine glances over.

“Put her down, Hannah. If she’s bored enough to create and to tip her food over like that, then she’s not hungry enough to eat it. She can do without breakfast this morning.”

Hannah hesitates, then sets the Rowland daughter on her feet. Content at being released, Miss Alexandra toddles away, giggling. Hannah and Katherine exchange a glance that hides a sigh of relief. One crisis averted.

* * *

Hannah is just sitting down with a pile of mending when Miss Alexandra wanders over. Plopping down at Hannah’s feet, she tugs at Hannah’s skirts, looking up at her with big brown eyes. What she wants is only too clear.

Chuckling, Hannah scoops her up, “Come here, then. You can have a cuddle, you vixen, but then I must get on with the mending.”

No sooner is Miss Alexandra on Hannah’s lap, however, than she squirms and wriggles to be put back on her feet.

Shrugging, Hannah obliges, but Miss Alexandra still isn’t happy. She whines and tugs on Hannah’s skirts, straining to be picked up again… Only to whimper to be set down as soon as Hannah settles her on her lap.

“Come on now, Miss Alexandra. I can’t keep picking you up and setting you down. Do you want a cuddle or not?” Hannah asks.

Miss Alexandra, however, can’t tell her, even if she could talk. When, after another few repetitions of the same thing, Hannah eventually decides to get on with the mending and sets Alexandra on her feet, the tiny face clouds over. She was having fun, being lifted up and down like that!

She tugs on Hannah’s skirts again, but this time, Hannah doesn’t pick her up. Confused, she tugs harder. Hannah looks down at her.

“No, Miss Alexandra. I’ve played the game. Now, you need to go and find something else to play. Why don’t you play blocks with Master Edward, look?”

Hannah gestures towards the older boy, but Miss Alexandra doesn’t want any part of it. Her lip juts out and wobbles for a fraction of a second before she stamps her foot and throws herself on the ground, screaming.

Hannah sighs, and puts the mending down.

“Hush, Miss Alexandra. There’s no need to make such a fuss. I’m right here. I’m right here.”

Miss Alexandra, however, ignores her. She doesn’t care that Hannah is right there. She wants her to play the up and down game. And she wants her to play it now!

* * *

The morning continues in much the same vein.  Miss Alexandra doesn’t seem to know what she wants, no matter how much Katherine and Hannah try to pander to her needs. She will wail for something, only to cry for something else seconds after getting whatever it was she was crying for in the first place. If Hannah is holding her, then she will stretch out her arms for Katherine or fight to be put down, but if Katherine takes her, then she’ll immediately scream for Hannah.

She refuses lunch, just as she refused breakfast, turning her head away from the spoon and trying to turn her plate over – although Katherine is wise to her tricks this time and seizes it before she can -, only to scream with hunger twenty minutes later.

And trying to change her after she has finally been persuaded to eat some lunch is nothing short of an ordeal.

“Please, Miss Alexandra, just lie still! This will be over much more quickly if you just lie still!” Hannah begs, trying to pin the wriggling little one down so she can wrap her legs in a clean nappy.

Alexandra shrieks in anger, kickng Hannah’s hands away and rolling out of reach. Puce-faced, she arches her back, drumming her fists into the floor.

Catching her again, Hannah starts humming her favourite lullaby, but she is screaming too loudly to hear it. All her strength is going into fighting the change. Suddenly, she rolls away from the fire, so that her bare skin hits the cool wooden floor of the nursery. The shock stuns her for a moment, and Hannah scoops her up as she wails afresh.

“I know, I know. The cold’s not nice, is it? This will be over soon, Miss Alexandra,” Hannah promises, “You just have to let me wrap you up nice and warm. A fresh nappy will be so much nicer than the old wet one, you’ll see.”

Howls of rage are her only answer…though the little girl does stop thrashing quite so fiercely. Eventually, the task is accomplished and Hannah lets her writhing charge scramble to her feet. She glances at the clock as the little girl, still pink with anger, runs off to play with her big brother. She sighs. What should have taken two minutes has taken almost ten.

“Ally, no! We’re building a tower, not knocking it down!” Master Edward’s scream cuts through the air.

Hannah spins round to see a triumphant Miss Alexandra seated in the midst of a mess of her brother’s wooden blocks. The little girl is giggling, her brother fighting not to cry. He’s spent all day building that tower.

Acting on instinct, Hannah opens her arms to Master Edward. He runs into them and buries his face in her skirts. His slim shoulders shake as he dissolves into tears.

Seconds later, as she sees the nursemaid fussing over her brother, Alexandra follows suit.

Throwing herself down on the ground, she sticks her lip out and wails. If Ned gets attention by crying, then she’s going to do the same.

* * *

Katherine glances up at the clock and stifles a gasp. The children should have been down to see their parents ten minutes ago!

“All right, Master David, Master Edward, Miss Alexandra. It’s time to go downstairs and see Mama and Papa,” Katherine corrals the children into gathering around her and glances them over, smoothing Master Edward’s hair with the flat of her hand. His younger sister could do with a full tidy-up, but, quite apart from the fact that it will take up precious time they don’t have, Katherine hasn’t got the energy. Today has been hard enough, with tantrums over the slightest thing, without adding another struggle to the mix.

“You’ll do.” She nods to the boys to go first and bends to scoop Miss Alexandra into her arms. Unfortunately, the little girl has other ideas. She squirms away, tears filling her eyes instantly. She can’t say so, but it is clear she wants to walk.

Katherine sighs. Does she have to create now? They’re already late. She bends down to the pouting little girl.

“What is it, Miss Alexandra? Do you want to be a big girl and walk like your brothers do?”

Miss Alexandra nods eagerly, bobbing her dark head.

“Very well, but you’ll have to hold my hand, understand?” Katherine reaches out for the child. She’ll never admit it, but she is holding her breath on a sigh of relief when the toddler, after a moment’s hesitation, slips her tiny hand into Katherine’s.

All goes well until they reach the stairs leading down to the ground floor. The staircase is long and narrow and spirals steeply. Katherine glances at it, then down at the little girl clutching her hand. The boys struggle on it sometimes, at least Master Edward does. There is no way Miss Alexandra, who is only just learning to walk, will be able to manage it. If they weren’t running late, Katherine might let her try, if only to prevent a tantrum, but they haven’t got time for that.

She bends and tips the little girl’s chin up to look at her, “I’m going to have to pick you up, Miss Alexandra. The stairs are a bit too big for you.”

Without waiting for a response, she scoops the child into her arms.

Miss Alexandra’s reaction is instantaneous. She goes rigid and unyielding, screaming her displeasure at having been thwarted. When that fails, she thrashes in Katherine’s arms, fighting to be put down. It is all her nanny can do to hold on to her as they descend the stairs, the boys scampering ahead of them.

“Shh, Miss Alexandra, shh! There’s no need to make such a fuss. You’re doing so well with learning to walk. Mama will be so proud. You can show her in the parlour where it’s safer. It’s just the stairs that are still a bit too much. Shh! Shh!”

The consoling words do nothing to ease the little girl’s howls. In her mind, Nanny has been horrid, picking her up when she wants to walk, and she doesn’t want to listen to a word she has to say, not any more.

Such is the image Katherine and Alexandra present in the parlour, therefore. Katherine is red-faced and panting with the effort of holding the writhing fourteen-month-old. Screaming loud enough to bring the roof down, Alexandra is equally red, her plump cheeks flooded with tears. At the sight of her mother, she stretches out her arms, straining to be taken away from the horrid person holding her.

Adeline gasps and springs up so quickly she almost trips over her own skirts.

“Oh, Ally, darling! What on earth is the matter? Come to Mama! Come to Mama, it’s all right. It’s all right.”

Distracted, Alexandra stops screaming quite so loudly as soon as she feels herself being lifted into her Mama’s arms. Before long, she has settled down to mere whimpers and sniffles, her head nestled against Adeline’s shoulder. Rocking her slightly, Adeline glares at Katherine.

“What on earth is going on? My precious girl should never be this distressed! Never!”

“I beg your pardon, Ma’am. It’s just been a bad day. Nothing seems to be right for Miss Alexandra today. I think we lifted her out of the wrong side of the cot this morning, hmm?”

Katherine bobs a curtsy, then attempts to avert the tension with humour, reaching out to chuck Miss Alexandra under the chin and pull a funny face at her.

Miss Alexandra, however, whines and flinches back into her mother’s shoulder.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Nanny, you’ve scared her!” Adeline snaps, “Get back up to the nursery and control yourself.”

There is nothing Katherine can say to that. She curtsies again and goes to the door. Before she can leave, however, Adeline stops her, her voice cold and hard.

“I don’t know what you’ve got against my daughter, but it stops now, do you understand? You never treated the boys like this. I don’t know what’s got into you!”

Katherine clenches her teeth on a wave of anger. It’s not her behaviour that’s changed since the young Masters were little, it’s the demands of the children. The boys were nothing compared to their sister, even at their most rambunctious.  For Christ’s sake, it’s taken all she has not to slap the little girl today. She hasn’t though. She knows that would be more than her job’s worth. But she’s only human. She doesn’t resent the little girl, she’s just frustrated. Anyone would be frustrated after a full day of Miss Alexandra’s antics. But Mistress Adeline would never understand that, even supposing she was willing to listen.

“Ma’am.” Katherine’s curtsy is just the right side of being so frosty as to be insolent. Adeline freezes for an instant, but then waves her away without another word.

As the older woman leaves, she turns her attention to both playing with the boys and consoling the little girl in her lap. If Nanny won’t soothe her little girl’s tears, then, by God, she will.

Bending her head over her little girl, she places a chunk of rock sugar in her hand, “Here you are, sweetheart. Mama had this brought up from the kitchen for you. Why don’t you have a bit of it, hmm?” she whispers, kissing the top of Alexandra’s head.

Alexandra, meanwhile, is worn out with having fussed all day. Not knowing what you want is exhausting when you’re as little as she is. She sucks the rock sugar happily and drifts off to sleep, her dark head nestled between her mother’s breasts.

 


	5. Overindulgence: Eighteen Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided we needed a chapter without a tantrum, so here's an eighteen-month-old Alexandra twisting her parents around her little finger... :) Potty-training next and all the hurdles that brings! Who feels sorry for Katherine and Hannah already??

Adeline hears the children before she sees them. Ned is bounding along the hall, full of excited energy.

“I’m going to play ‘Three Bears’ on Mama’s pianoforte!”

“Ally too! Ally too!” Eighteen-month-old Alexandra is toddling along after him, clearly having torn herself free of Hannah’s restraining hand. Having picked up on her older brother’s excitement, she is shrieking happily.

“Master Edward! Miss Alexandra! Please! You know you’re not supposed to run downstairs. Please, walk nicely. Look at Master David. Can’t you be more like him?”

Hannah chides them, but even from a distance, Adeline can tell there is no strength in her voice. She’s hardly surprised, therefore, when the children ignore her and barrel into the parlour amid peals of laughter. She tuts inwardly. Hannah has worked in their nursery for years; surely she must know by now that children require a firm hand?

Still unsteady on her feet, Alexandra trips over the rug and tumbles to the ground. Tears pool in her dark eyes and her bottom lip wobbles precariously, but before she can even whimper, Adeline springs up and rushes to her side, scooping her up.

“Hello, sweetheart! That was such good walking! You’re such a big girl now! Give Mama a kiss!”

In seconds, the threatening tears are gone and Alexandra is nestling into her mother’s arms, purring with glee at the attention. Adeline breathes a silent sigh of relief. She does so hate tears.

If it was up to her, she’d ensure there was always a smile on her little girl’s face. And thankfully, Ally is easy to please. All she ever wants is attention. Honestly, Adeline doesn’t know why the staff grumble about her being difficult. They clearly just don’t know how to handle her playful spirits.

Resolving to speak to Nanny again, Adeline lets her daughter down as she squirms and ruffles Ned’s hair before the two of them run off to the pianoforte. David, who, at nearly seven, fancies himself quite the young gentleman, is standing quietly, waiting for her to turn to him. When she does, he bows slightly, “Good afternoon, Mother.”

“Heavens, Davey, there’s no need for that! This is the 19th century, not the 16th! Come and give me a hug and tell me all about what Miss Gordon has been teaching you today.”

Adeline holds out her arms and draws her eldest into them, cherishing the way he melts into her embrace. He’s growing so fast. He’ll be seven next month. Charles was saying only the other day that they should look into getting him ready for school at Rugby soon. It won’t be long before he doesn’t want to be her little boy any more.

They sit on the chaise longue, chatting lightly, though it is hard to concentrate with Ned and Ally banging on the piano keys behind them. Ned is playing the bears, deep bass notes for Father Bear, medium full notes for Mother Bear, higher ones for Baby Bear. Ally is Goldilocks, banging out a flurry of high, tinkling notes to simulate her running down the stairs. She squeals joyfully as she does so, over and over again.

Adeline is delighted to see her youngest children playing so nicely together, but she wishes they would play something quieter. The tinkling notes, being played so repetitively, are drilling into her head, making it hard to think.

Davey glances up at the clock, his grey eyes lighting up as he realises what time it is, “Father will be home soon! May I go and wait for him in the hall, Mama?”

Adeline smiles softly, “Of course you may, Davey. I’m sure he’ll be very glad to see his little man.”

David needs no second urging. He runs off and Adeline watches him go, his eagerness to see his father tugging at her heart. She’s delighted that Davey and Charles get on so well. Of course she is. But she can’t help but envy them their male bond, just a little. It is part of why she so longed for a daughter. She wanted to match their bond with a little girl of her own.

For now, however, she really must stop Ned and Ally playing so loudly.

“Ned, Ally. Can you find something quieter to play for a while, please? Your music is a bit loud for Mama.”

Ally turns on the piano stool, flashing her a blinding smile, “But Mama. Ned and Ally ‘aying!”

Adeline’s heart melts, “I can see that, sweetheart. And you’re playing very nicely too. But I’m afraid you’re hurting Mama’s head. Find some other game, hmm?”

Ally, bless her, ponders this new information for a few seconds. Adeline can practically see the gears turning in her little head. And then the little girl slips from the piano stool and toddles over.

“Up, Mama, up!” she demands, tugging harshly on Adeline’s skirts.

Adeline smiles and obliges, settling her little girl on her lap at exactly the same time as Ned discovers the plate of gingerbread Adeline has left on the table in anticipation of Charles’s imminent return. Charles does so love gingerbread.

As do his younger children, “Can I have one, Mama, please?” Ned begs, fingers hovering over the plate. He is clearly itching to pick one up.

Adeline laughs, pretending to think, before she nods, “Since you asked so nicely, Ned, you may have two. But no more. You mustn’t spoil your supper and we have to leave some for Papa and Davey, don’t we? You know how much Papa loves it.”

“Yes, Mama,” Ned nods obediently, before his fair head bends over the plate, intent on choosing the thickest, stickiest piece of gingerbread he can. Ally glances up at Adeline, eyes wide.

“Ally too?”

Adeline nods, “Yes, Ally. You too darling. The same number of pieces as Ned, all right?”

Alexandra crows in delight and snatches up a piece of gingerbread, snuggling back against Adeline as she crams it into her mouth, scattering crumbs everywhere. Delighting in the feel of the warm body in her arms, Adeline reaches around her daughter for her workbox and starts weaving bright ribbons into the child’s dark hair, combing the soft curls out with her fingers as she does so. Alexandra, meanwhile, waits until her mother is absorbed in her task and then reaches for another piece of gingerbread. And then another.

She is just biting into her fourth when Adeline notices.

“No, Ally. You’ve had enough,” Adeline says warningly, reaching for the piece still in her daughter’s hand, “Leave some for Davey and Papa, there’s a good girl.”

Alexandra crams the remaining crumbs into her mouth before her mother can take them from her and then smiles sweetly up at her mother, knowing she won’t be punished.

“But Mama, Ally hungry,” she pouts. As if to prove her point, she tries to reach for a fifth slice of gingerbread, but Adeline has enough sense to catch her hand before she can.

“Alexandra, I said no.”

Predictably, the toddler doesn’t like this answer. She whines and squirms on Adeline’s lap. She’s not quite throwing a tantrum yet, but she’s not far off, either. Fortunately, just at that moment, David cries out, “Father’s home!” and the little girl’s attention is diverted.

Charles comes in, David trotting proudly at his side, and beams down at the two of them.

“Now, there’s a pretty picture! Are you being good for Mama, Ally?”

Before the little girl can respond, he leans down and pecks Adeline on the cheek, “Hello, dear. Any chance of pouring me a drink? I’m gasping for a cup of tea.”

“Of course,” Adeline sets Alexandra on her feet and reaches for the tea pot. “There’s your favourite to go with it, as well,” she adds, rather unnecessarily, for Charles has just spied the plate.

“Hmm! Gingerbread! Cook is a treasure!” He bites into a piece and sinks into the armchair, slipping an arm round Ned as he comes closer.

Alexandra, meanwhile, is debating throwing a tantrum. After all, Mama stopped her having the gingerbread she wanted and now she’s ignoring her. Before she does, though, she glances at Papa and a thought goes through her head. _He_ never said she couldn’t have any gingerbread.

Dropping to all fours, she crawls over to her father and then sits up, peering at him with big eyes and batting his leg with a tiny hand, much like a puppy begging for food might use its paws.

Papa glances down at her, “Well, look who it is. Would you like some gingerbread, Ally?”

She nods eagerly, bobbing her head, before Mama can say anything.

“Don’t give it to her, Charles. She’s already had far more than I said she could,” Adeline arches an eyebrow and Charles hesitates.

“Not Ally, ‘atches. ‘Atches,” the toddler says simply, as though that explains everything.

Charles and Adeline can’t help but laugh. Patches is Alexandra’s knitted puppy, the one her Aunt Charlotte made her when she was born. The little darling adores it, takes it nearly everywhere with her. It’s hardly surprising it’s starting to figure in her play.

Charles tips his head to one side, considering, “Well, I suppose Patches can be allowed one very small piece of gingerbread, if he doesn’t mind sharing,” he decides, breaking his remaining gingerbread in two and giving one to Ned and the other to the little girl at his feet.

Alexandra squeals happily, all the more so when Charles suddenly reaches down and swoops her into his arms.

“What do you think?” he asks, “Will Patches turn back into my little girl if I toss him in the air?”

“Yes, Fa-fa!” Alexandra squeals, brown eyes sparkling and limbs pinwheeling as her father suits the action to the word.

It isn’t long before Ned wants a go and then even David loses interest in trying to act the part of the oldest and begs his father to spin him round too.  The five of them are laughing merrily, therefore, when the gong goes, summoning Charles and Adeline to dress for their dinner out and the children up to the nursery for the nursery tea.

* * *

“And Ally even played at being a puppy and stole a bit of Papa’s gingerbread. She had nearly five pieces in the end. I only had two!”

 Perched on a stool at Katherine’s feet, Master Edward is gushing over his daily visit to his parents, as he always does at this time of day. She makes a point of sitting with him in the interval between the nursery tea and bed, while Master David reads quietly and Hannah plays with Miss Alexandra. She always feels sorry for the middle Rowland child. It’s never explicitly stated, but she senses that, much like his mother dotes on the baby of the family, his older brother is his father’s favourite. Hence, she tries to balance that out by paying him the lion’s share of her attention, at least as far as his capricious little sister will allow.

At that statement, however, she can’t help the way her eyes flick towards the daughter of the house, content as she is throwing a rag ball to Hannah for the latter to catch.

“Five? Are you sure, Master Edward?”

“Hmm,” the little boy nods, “And I only had two!” he repeats, clearly expecting Katherine to rectify this unfairness, but, unfortunately for him, Katherine is too busy biting back a curse.

Five pieces of gingerbread! Five! No wonder Miss Alexandra didn’t want to eat her supper! Moreover, Miss Alexandra is allergic to gingerbread! Not badly, but give her too much of it and her bowels turn to water.

That in itself mightn’t be too bad, but the eighteen-month-old still hasn’t learnt to sleep through using her nappy. She always wakes, shrieking to be changed, within minutes of using it. Combine that with the almost endless routine she requires to be lulled to sleep in the first place - which has to be restarted every single time she wakes - and they’re going to be up all night, changing her. She should never have been allowed five pieces! Never! What was the Mistress thinking?!

In an instant, Katherine knows the answer. Mistress Adeline let Miss Alexandra have so much gingerbread because it was easier to give in to her than to refuse her and risk her throwing a tantrum – which she, knowing it works, does every time she is thwarted. After all, why wouldn’t Mistress Adeline let Miss Alexandra have her own way? It isn’t as though she has to deal with the consequences of indulging her daughter.

Katherine bites back a sigh and touches Master Edward’s shoulder.

“Thank you for telling me, Master Edward. I’m afraid I’m going to have to give you something to help you sleep tonight. And your brother.”

“Why, Nanny?” Master Edward’s grey eyes go wide as he looks up at her and she exhales. How does she explain this one to the little boy in words he’ll understand?

“Your sister’s eaten too much today. It’s going to make her ill tonight, so she’s going to be up a lot and making lots of noise. I’ll move her into her old room, but I don’t want her to disturb you, so I want to give you something to help you sleep. Is that all right?”

Master Edward considers this for a moment and then nods, “All right, Nanny. I hope Ally feels better soon.”

It is all Katherine can do not to hide a sigh of relief as she squeezes the middle Rowland child to her for an instant. Thank Heavens the Rowland boys are easier than their sister. “Thank you, Master Edward. That’s very sweet of you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Katherine sees Miss Alexandra suddenly drop the ball she is holding and freeze. Her little face screws up and she grunts.

Thankfully, Hannah, too has noticed the signs. She is already at the little girl’s side as her face first lightens in relief and then crumples as she starts to wail for a change. Scooping her up, she carries her off, skilfully avoiding the flailing limbs. Much though Miss Alexandra hates a dirty nappy, she hates the changing process more and always throws a tantrum when it is due. Katherine can’t wait until she’s old enough to potty train. It might ease quite a lot of the friction in the nursery.

Watching them go, Katherine’s heart sinks. It seems as though the runaround has already begun.


	6. Potty Training: 3 Years Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely sure about this, but the Alexandra/David interaction was fun to write, so here you go!

 The café on Vauxhall Road is heaving with customers when Katherine enters. She hesitates on the threshold, glancing around. Thankfully, she doesn’t have to wait long.

“Kate!”

The call is finely balanced, loud enough to be heard but not so loud as to be indiscreet. Katherine turns in the direction it has come from and smiles at the sight of her oldest friend waving her over.

“Susan,” she greets the other as she rises, kissing her lightly and laying her gloves on the table beside her seat, “It’s wonderful to see you.”

“I know. It’s a shame our half days don’t coincide more often. How are you?”

At the question, Katherine can’t restrain a sigh, “Relieved to be away for a bit, if I’m honest.”

She says nothing that can be seen as a criticism of her employers, but she and Susan trained together. Susan knows her well enough to read into that sigh. She raises an eyebrow and pours Katherine a cup of lightly scented tea.

“The little madam still giving you trouble?”

“When is she not? It’s not as if I can punish her, not without her parents’ support, and you know I don’t have that.”

Katherine exhales and slumps back into her chair, showing just how tired she is by how deplorable her posture is. Susan reaches out and squeezes her hand in sympathy.

“I don’t understand why you stay. Heaven knows I would have handed in my notice months ago, were I in your shoes.”

“I know you would have done,” Katherine’s lips twitch in a smile, as she looks up at her red-headed friend, “Though with your temper, I’m not sure Mistress Adeline wouldn’t have had you sacked for daring to lay a hand on her precious girl.”

Susan pulls a face, “You might be right. Thank the Lord Lady Conyers is somewhat more understanding.”

Silence falls for a moment or two before Susan, whose curiosity has always been the death of her, can no longer restrain herself. “Go on, then. Tell me about it. What’s the current issue?”

“Miss Alexandra is refusing to potty train.”

“Still?” Susan can’t hide her shock, “Isn’t she three? I thought she’d have learnt long before this. Miss Edith learnt long before three, and Master Thomas isn’t far behind.”

“Well, lucky you. Miss Alexandra won’t hear of it. Even the suggestion of the potty precipitates a major tantrum. If you ask me, she knows that having nappies guarantees her attention and doesn’t want to lose it, but I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried rewards, tried ignoring her demands for a change, tried everything I can think of. I’ve never known a more stubborn child.”

“Have you tried hiding the nappies and telling her you’ve thrown them out?”

Katherine’s eyes go wide at Susan’s matter-of-fact words, “I beg your pardon?”

“It’s a trick I heard Maud saying she had to use on one of her charges who refused to learn to use a chamber pot. She hid his nappies in a storage room in the attic and told him she’d thrown them out. He was dry within a week, apparently.”

Katherine pauses and tips her head to one side. There’s an idea she’d never considered. On the other hand, however, she gets so little time away from her charges that she doesn’t want to discuss them any more than she has to this afternoon. As such, all she says is, “You may be on to something. I’ll give it some thought,” before taking another restorative draught of tea and changing the subject to Susan’s niece’s upcoming wedding.

* * *

Alexandra is sitting under the nursery window, rocking her doll and murmuring to her.

“Go to sleep, Kitty. It’s time to sleep, there’s a good girl,” she whispers, unconsciously echoing what Nanny and Hannah say to her whenever she is laid down for bed. Unlike Alexandra, though, Kitty closes her eyes obediently and the little girl giggles gleefully. She kicks her legs out, enjoying her new-found freedom to move however she likes. Nanny has taken her out of her nappies and thrown them all away, saying she’s such a big girl she doesn’t need them anymore.

Ally agrees. She doesn’t _need_ nappies anymore. But she’ll never tell Nanny that, because they’re fun. Or rather, dirtying them, crying for a change, but then fighting Hannah all the way through it is fun. If she cries and wriggles away enough, she can have Hannah all to herself for as long as she wants.

It’s a game, a game she’s played for as long as she can remember. It’s all about making sure she gets more attention than Ned or Davey. After all, she deserves it. She’s Mama’s little Princess. They’re not.

But Nanny has spoilt that game. She’s taken all the nappies away, so that Ally has to use the potty. Which she doesn’t want to do, because the potty is boring.

 The thought makes her hot and cross. She pouts. She wants to punish Nanny for spoiling her game.

Suddenly, she feels a horrid cramping in her tummy. She whines and shifts, trying to get comfortable, but it won’t go away. She needs to poo. Now.

She glances up. Nanny and Hannah aren’t looking. She could shout for them, shout for her potty. She knows they want her to. But she doesn’t feel like doing what they want her to.

Quick as a flash, she sets Kitty down and squats. She has to grunt and push a bit, but her tummy soon eases. She giggles triumphantly. Nanny thought she’d won, but she hasn’t.

* * *

Hannah knows what Miss Alexandra has done the moment she walks into the day nursery from sorting the linens. The smell is too powerful for her to have done anything else.

“Miss Alexandra!” She snatches the little girl up, fast enough to startle her, “We don’t poo on the floor, that’s naughty!”

It takes all she has not to slap the little girl. Goodness knows the young madam could do with a dose of the slipper to make her realise the world doesn’t revolve around her whims. But Hannah’s hands are tied. The mistress would never condone her little girl being punished in such a way. All she can do is fill the hip bath and strip Miss Alexandra down for a wash, berating her all the while.

“You’re a big girl now. You know we don’t poo on the floor. I’m very disappointed in you, and so will Nanny be when I tell her. I’ve a good mind to stop you from going downstairs to see your Mama today, so I have.”

In other households, the threat might work, but here, where Mistress Adeline’s word, and through her, the whims of her tyrannical little daughter, is law, it is an empty one, and even at three, Miss Alexandra knows it. She simply looks up at Hannah, giggling, and submits to the wash patiently. After all, the game she is playing is all about attention. A nappy change or a bath, she doesn’t care what form it comes in. All that matters is the attention that being naughty and resisting potty training gives her.

* * *

A few months at Rugby have taken David out of his familial circle and opened his eyes to something of the wider world. Hence, when he comes home now, he is much more aware of the dynamics at 12 Belgrave Square than he ever was before. He is much more aware of just how much the household revolves around keeping his mother happy, and how, in order to do that, they have to keep his little sister happy too.

How fiercely Ally is resisting being toilet-trained surprises him. He remembered his sister being an incredibly determined little girl, who always wanted to play with him and Ned. He’d have thought she would have taken to anything that made her out to be a big girl like a duck to water, as the house matron at school likes to say.

Yet she hasn’t. She clearly hates having her nappy changed, yet she fights even the suggestion of the potty kicking, biting and screaming, quite literally. 

It takes David a while, but eventually he finds himself alone in the nursery with his little sister.

“Ally, come here,” he calls, indicating his lap, “I want to ask you something.”

Ally’s eyes light up. As well they might. David hasn’t offered to let her sit on his lap in ages. He’s long thought himself too old to pander to his little sister like that. She nestles into his lap before he changes his mind, burrowing her little head under his chin. He rests his head on hers, his fairer skin standing out against her dark unruly curls.

After a moment he feels her relax into him and takes a deep breath. The moment has come.

“You hate having your nappy changed, don’t you, Ally?”

He is careful to phrase the question innocently and Ally, young as she is, is fooled immediately. She nods.

“Lying still for Hannah is boring!”

“I know. But you know, you’re such a big girl now, you could learn not to need nappies.”

“I don’t need them! I’m a big girl!”

“Then why use them? If you hate being changed, why do you still use them, if you don’t need them?”

David is genuinely confused. Ally looks at him. Her little face is twisted into a surprisingly scathing look, given she’s only three.

“I get Hannah to myself while she changes me. If I fight her, I get her for longer.”

She says this as though it is simple, and to her, it probably is. David is hard-pressed not to laugh. Of course this would be about attention.  He hadn’t realised this before but now that he’s seeing her with fresh eyes, he’s realising that everything is about attention to his little sister. He cups her face in his hands to make her look at him.

“But, Ally, using the potty doesn’t mean you have to lose any attention.”

“No?” Ally’s eyes go wide at this revelation. David shakes his head. “I remember when Ned was learning to use the potty. He shouted for Nanny and Hannah almost all the time. And they always took him when he wanted. Always.”

“Always?” Ally is clearly torn between being confused by this new information and wanting to trust the big brother she adores. David hesitates too, but seeing his little sister squirm, clearly needing the toilet, makes up his mind.

“Promise me you won’t make a fuss about using the potty this time and I’ll prove it, all right?”

Were it anyone but David asking her, Ally would protest. But this is her big brother. She nods. David smiles at her, a secret smile that makes her feel all warm inside. Then he raises his voice.

“Nanny! Ally needs to use the potty!”

Ally holds her breath, but sure enough, Nanny comes bustling over and takes her by the hand, “Do you now, Miss Alexandra? And will you be good this time and not make a fuss? Shall we go and try?”

Remembering her promise to Davey, Ally lets Nanny settle her on the chamber pot in unusually docile silence. She is so docile, in fact, that if Katherine wasn’t so relieved to see the three-year-old finally playing ball, she’d wonder if the little one was up to something.

When the pot is filled, Nanny claps happily, “See, Miss Alexandra, that wasn’t so hard, was it? You’ve done very well, very well indeed!”

Beaming under the praise, Ally skittles off to play with Davey.

Ten minutes later, when Nanny is out of the room, he whispers to her, “Pretend you need the potty again.”

She hesitates, but he urges her, “Go on. Trust me, Ally. Wriggle.”

Confused, she wriggles obediently and Davey shouts, “Hannah! Ally needs the potty!”

On cue, Hannah comes over and picks her up, carrying her over to the chamber pot. Ally can’t believe her luck. Hannah didn’t even ask, she just believed her.

So as not to ruin the game too early, Ally squeezes out a few drops of wee before Hannah, full of praise for her, lifts her off again and lets her run off to Davey.

“See?” Her big brother breathes in her ear, “I told you so.  Shout for your potty and they’ll drop everything to get it to you.”

“Even in the middle of the night?” Ally can’t think that this will be true, but Davey nods solemnly, “Even in the middle of the night. I promise.”

In answer, Ally giggles. Davey is so clever! This will be fun!

* * *

“But Nanny! I need the potty!” Alexandra whines and squirms, kicking back the blankets as Nanny tries to tuck her in.

Nanny doesn’t say anything, but her lips press together in that way she has when she’s feeling cross and trying not to show it.

“Now, Miss Alexandra. I know that can’t be true. You went just after you had your bath, remember, and again between your first and second story. You can’t need the potty again. It’s time to lie back and go to sleep, there’s a good girl. Look, Patches and Kitty are tired, they want to sleep too. Lie back and I’ll sing you a lullaby. Your favourite, how about that, hmm?”

But Alexandra is like an unruly pony. She has the bit between her teeth now and she won’t let go.

“No!” She wails, screwing up her face and wiggling as though she’s uncomfortable, just like Davey taught her, “I need the potty! “

“No, you don’t, Miss Alexandra. You have a nappy on, remember. I put one on you so you wouldn’t have to get up in the night. Come on, now. It’s time for bed.

Alexandra shakes her head. “NO! Nanny, I need potty!”

Alexandra is het up, flushed and thrashing with temper. When Nanny opens her mouth to protest again, she screams in fury.

“Ally NEED potty!”

She doesn’t even realise that her speech has slipped backwards into that of a younger child. Davey promised Nanny would always let her use the potty whenever she wanted it. He promised!

The thought of her beloved older brother breaking a promise to her upsets her so much that her tears become wrenching sobs of real distress…distress Nanny misunderstands, but can’t ignore.

“All right, all right. Shh, shh,” Nanny rubs her back, even when she huffs angrily and tries to roll away, “Shh, there’s no need to carry on so. You can use the potty one more time, but then it’s time to listen to a lullaby and go to sleep, all right?”

Alexandra feels herself be lifted up and she slips her arms around Nanny’s neck automatically. She whimpers and snuffles against the woman’s throat as she is carried over to the potty.

“There you go, Miss Alexandra,” Nanny soothes, “That’s better, isn’t it? You’re such a big girl now. Such a big girl.”

The soft words work their magic and Alexandra is so close to sleep that she barely even notices as Nanny lifts her up and tucks her back into bed.

Her last thought is that Davey was right.

* * *

Katherine closes the nursery door behind her and exhales with relief. She is torn between pride and exhaustion. Leave it to Miss Alexandra to find a way to turn learning to use the potty into a power game. If she hasn’t shouted for the potty at least a thousand times today… well, Katherine will eat her best Sunday bonnet.

And they’re not out of the woods yet. Miss Alexandra is an extremely light sleeper. No doubt the boys moving around to go to bed themselves will wake her and provoke a new round of hi-jinks.

To Katherine’s surprise, Master Edward manages to slip beneath the sheets without waking his younger sister.

Master David, however, isn’t so lucky. Having not been in the nursery for months, he forgets precisely where the loose floorboard is.

Leaving to go downstairs to his new bedroom, he steps on it.

As if on cue, Miss Alexandra’s eyes snap open.

For a few seconds, she seems not to register what’s happened, but the inevitable happens. She starts fussing and wailing.

Master David, bless him, looks stricken.

“I’m sorry, Nanny, I didn’t mean to!” he gasps.

“You’re all right, Master David. I know it was an accident,” Katherine reassures him as Hannah scurries into the night nursery, “Go back to your own room. We’ll sort your sister.”

She touches his cheek lightly, the only form of affection her young man will allow her now that he is more grown up, and shooes him out of the door, shutting it behind him.

Behind her, she can hear Miss Alexandra crying and resisting Hannah’s efforts to settle her down again.

“No, no!”

“Yes, Miss Alexandra. It’s time to sleep. Lie down now, there’s a good girl.”

“No! No!”

“Yes. Look, here’s Patches. Give him a cuddle and go back to sleep, there’s a good girl.”

For a moment, a blessed moment, there is silence. Katherine is about to exhale in relief, when Miss Alexandra suddenly sits bolt upright, silhouetted against the lamplight, “But Hannah, I need the potty.”

She doesn’t. The triumph in her voice, as if to say, _“I know what you want me to do, but I also know you can’t say no to this so I’m going to do it,”_ is proof enough that she doesn’t, but at the same time, they can’t stop her going, not when they’ve only just got her to agree to using it in the first place.

Hannah hesitates, but then reluctantly agrees. “Very well. One quick trip to the potty but then it’s back to bed with you, Miss.”

Miss Alexandra leaps out of bed, far too awake for a little girl who’s only had just over an hour’s sleep. In that instant, Katherine knows it’s not going to be that easy to get her back to bed.

Sure enough, it isn’t. Two hours later, Hannah is still there, trying to lull the little girl by patting her bottom in the way that occasionally soothed her as a baby.

Her efforts are nullified, however, by the lure of Alexandra’s new game.

Every few minutes, she whines and fusses slightly, before demanding the potty, in ever-increasing volume, until she is granted her wish.

In the end, it is nearly midnight before she finally drops off to sleep.


	7. Dolls and Dresses (I)

“Oh, here they are!” Adeline beams up at the children as Nanny leads them into the parlour, “Ned, Ally! Come to Mama, darlings!”

Ned needs no second urging, obediently trotting over to give his mother a kiss. Alexandra follows suit,  but freezes as she realises who is sitting opposite her mother.

“Aunt Louisa!” she squeals, dashing over to throw herself into her favourite aunt’s arms.

At least, she would, if her aunt wasn’t holding a squirming bundle. Confused by the new turn of events, the four-year-old skids to a halt, glancing between her mother, her aunt and the bundle, nose scrunched.

“I wondered when you’d notice, Ally. This is your new little cousin, Stanley. Are you going to say hello?”

Louisa proffers the baby for his older cousin’s kiss and Alexandra bends to press her plump lips to the tiny forehead without a murmur.

Her dark eyes, however, are narrowed and she hovers at Louisa’s side, all too obviously wanting her aunt to pick her up and enthrone her on her lap as she’s always done before. As the seconds pass without her being granted her wish, her little cheeks hollow out into a pout. She doesn’t like the interloper, that much is clear.

Quickly, Adeline settles Ned at her side with a jigsaw of the Empire and scoops her little girl on to her lap.

“Aunt Louisa’s got her hands full, darling. Come and sit on Mama’s lap.”

Normally, Alexandra would nestle into her mother’s hold, but not today. She gets to sit on Mama’s lap every day, but not Aunt Louisa’s. Besides, she’s already unhappy. Nanny’s forced her to wear her red dress, when she wanted to wear her green one. She won’t countenance being thwarted again – not when Mama and Aunt Louisa always give her what she wants.

Shifting restlessly on her mother’s lap, she whines and stretches her arms out towards her aunt, tears pooling in her eyes. She has regressed in her behaviour, as she often does when she’s upset. She learnt long ago that acting younger than she is always softens her mother’s heart.

Adeline chuckles, “I think we shall have to swap, Lu. Ally wants her aunt. No one else will do, it seems. Besides, I haven’t held my nephew yet. Give him here.”

The swap is soon accomplished and Alexandra is nuzzling into her aunt’s neck, content at last. Louisa laughs.

“There’s my favourite niece,” she whispers, stroking the little girl’s rampant curls. Alexandra purrs at the attention, snuggling deeper like the cuddle bunny her mother always tells her she is.

“Your _only_ niece,” Adeline points out. Louisa’s lips curl up into an amused smirk.

“Ergo, dear sister, by default my favourite. Now, Ally, I have a present for you. And for Ned.”

“Really!” Ned jumps to his feet in surprise. His mother tuts slightly at his eagerness, but he can’t help it. He’s only seven, after all. He’s only seven and is all too often ignored, either because adults are favouring his sister or because trying to control her antics is taking up the lion’s share of their time.

“Of course. I can’t leave you out, now, can I?” Louisa, with a new-found arrogance born of her two years’ marriage to Lord Frederick Spencer-Churchill, nods to the hovering servant, who carries forward a half-size cricket bat, painted gaily in the colours of the Union Jack. “I thought this might be of help when you go to join your brother at Rugby next year.”

Ned’s eyes light up. “Thank you, Aunt Louisa! Thank you!”

He flings his arms briefly around her neck, glances at his mother for permission and scampers off, clutching his prize. No doubt he is going to go and bully the hall boy into being his bowler while he tries out the new bat.

The women exchange an indulgent look, before Louisa reaches behind her on the chaise longue and hands Alexandra a box.

“Here you are, sweetheart.”

Alexandra grabs the box eagerly. She is about to rip the lid off, when something suddenly stops her. She glances back at her aunt.

“Do you want me to help you open it?” Louisa says softly. Alexandra nods, so her aunt takes the small hands in hers and helps her untie the ribbon and pry off the lid. What lies inside silences even the exacting little girl.

She gapes down at the doll with its masses of strawberry blonde hair, big blue eyes and flowing skirts. When she looks back at her aunt, her chocolate brown eyes are gleaming.

“Do you like it?”

Alexandra nods, “She’s got my dress on!” she squeals happily, “Mama, look, the doll’s got my dress on!”

The doll is indeed wearing a mirror image of Alexandra’s red velvet pinafore, right down to the sash at her waist, saving that where Alexandra’s is white, to match the lace at her collar, the doll’s is purple. 

“She has,” Adeline laughs, leaning forward over the baby she is holding to push her daughter’s curls out of her face, “What do you say to Aunt Louisa?”

“Thank you! Thank you!”

“You’re very welcome, Ally. Before I leave, you’ll have to show me all the dresses in your wardrobe, won’t you? Then I can make the doll a copy of every dress you’ve got, can’t I?”

Alexandra’s eyes light up at the thought. “Really?”

Louisa shrugs, “Why not? Are you going to give your dolly a name, so I can label her dresses the way Nanny does with yours?”

The little girl thinks for a moment, nose wrinkling.

“Eliza,” she says at last, “Eliza Rose.”

“What a very pretty name,” Louisa laughs, “Now, are you going to introduce me and your Mama to her?”

Alexandra needs no further encouragement to lift the doll out of the box. The little trio settle down to their game until the nurses come to take the children back upstairs.

* * *

Ally hates having her baby cousin around. He's boring! All he ever does is sleep, mess his nappy and cry. Far worse, in Ally’s eyes, he steals Aunt Louisa’s attention. And Mama’s. And Nanny’s. Ned and Davey do, too. But she’s used to them. She’s not used to Stanley.

And she’s always getting into trouble for disturbing him and making him cry. Ally isn’t used to being in trouble either. It’s all his fault. All of it!

He’s the reason she’s hiding in the bottom of the wardrobe, clutching Eliza Rose to her like a lifeline. It’s not fair! It’s not fair! All she wanted was for Nanny to play balls with her and the dolls, like she usually does. But Stanley had been crying and Nanny had told her to ask Hannah.

Thinking acting like Stanley would get her what she wanted, she’d tried whining and wailing, pulling on Nanny’s skirts to try to get her to sit down.

Nanny had snapped at her. “Oh, for crying out loud, Miss Alexandra! You’re a big girl now! Go and play by yourself if you don’t want to ask Hannah!”

The harsh words had stunned Ally and she’d frozen, before running off in tears, ending up by hiding in the wardrobe. Nanny has never spoken to her like that before! Never! It’s all Stanley’s fault!

Suddenly, as she shifts in the wardrobe, the skirts of one of her dresses tickles her, brushing against her tear-stained cheeks.

In a flash, she remembers. Aunt Louisa promised to make Eliza Rose dresses that matched hers. She promised!

A smile surprisingly malicious for her age curving her lips, Ally reaches for the nearest dress and wraps Eliza Rose in its skirts. Giggling, she leaves the doll lying on the floor of the wardrobe and creeps out.

There is no one around. Hannah has gone downstairs on an errand and Nanny is busy trying to hush Stanley to sleep,  who, because he is cutting a tooth, is being abnormally grizzly that afternoon.

Ally sneaks over to Nanny’s mending basket – which, were Nanny not run off her feet by having both a demanding toddler and a teething baby to deal with would never be anywhere near where a curious four-year-old could reach it.

She snatches the big sewing scissors out of it before anyone can see her and scuttles back into the wardrobe.

Nanny wants her to play with Eliza Rose on her own, does she?  She will, then! She will! She’ll play dressmakers!

By the time anyone thinks to look for her, when she doesn’t appear for the nursery tea, Ally is surrounded by several ragged swatches of cloth. Nearly every dress in her little white wardrobe is ruined beyond repair.

 


	8. Dolls and Dresses II

 

Even Mistress Adeline has to blink when Katherine, having sought her out in the interval between the nursery tea and bedtime, explains why she has wanted to speak to her.

“My daughter has done what?!”

“Cut almost all her dresses to shreds, Ma’am. We left her to play while I settled young Master Stanley, you see. She was being so quiet, we didn’t think to check on her. I regret that now.”

“No wonder.” Adeline sighs, then spreads her hands. “Very well, Nanny. I suppose you’d better bring Miss Alexandra down to speak to me.”

The young woman’s voice is hard, heavy. As Katherine curtsies and leaves the room, she exhales and glances across at her younger sister.

“Honestly. You’d think Katherine would know how to control Ally by now. She’s been raising her for four years. I hope your nanny is better with Stanley than Katherine is with Ally.”

Louisa half-shrugs, “He’s so young, I haven’t had much time to think about it to be honest.”

“Well, do. You don’t want to be where I am. Katherine is constantly complaining about Ally’s behaviour for no good reason. Honestly, not a day goes by when she’s not berating my poor darling for something. I’m half tempted to give her the sack. Goodness knows Ally would be happier if I did, but there’s Ned to be considered. He adores Katherine. I don’t want to unsettle him just before he goes to Rugby.”

Louisa opens her mouth to say something but freezes in the movement at the sounds of Alexandra being led down the staircase.

“Never mind that now, Adeline. You’ve got to at least get to the bottom of this before you decide what to do.”

Adeline nods quickly and schools her face blank as Alexandra is led into the parlour.

Bless the child, she seems to sense the tension in the room instantly, because, instead of running into her mother’s arms as is her usual wont, she stops several inches short of the chaise longue and drops her head demurely.

“Mama?” she asks quietly.

Quick as Alexandra was to drop her head, Adeline has already seen the red-rimmed eyes. Her heart clenches at the thought of her little girl being so visibly upset. Without further ado, she jerks her head at Katherine.

“Thank you, Nanny. You may go.”

Katherine opens her mouth to protest. She knows that, if she leaves Miss Alexandra alone with her mother for even five minutes, the little vixen will have her mother wrapped around her little finger and escape the punishment she so richly deserves. Mistress Adeline, however, doesn’t give her a chance to get a word in edgeways.

“I said, that will do. You may go.”

Biting the inside of her cheek to silence the retort she longs to snarl, Katherine bobs to the floor, “Yes, Ma’am.”

She exits, shutting the door as hard as she dares behind her.

Adeline tuts harshly at the older woman’s borderline insolence, but lets it slide in favour of slipping to the floor in front of her daughter and tipping her chin up with a finger.

“Ally. Look at me.”

The little girl meets her mother’s gentle gaze, something flickering in her eyes.

“Nanny tells me you cut your dresses up this afternoon.”

“Yes, Mama.” Ally’s voice is small, uncharacteristically so, in fact.

“Why did you do that? That was very naughty of you. You know you’re not meant to go anywhere near the scissors, especially not Nanny’s big sewing ones.”

“I was only playing dressmakers,” Ally pouts. Adeline arches an eyebrow and waits for her to go on. Before long, the little girl cracks.

“Nanny told me to play on my own! She told me! And Aunt Louisa promised to make Eliza Rose dresses that matched mine. She promised! I was only trying to help. I thought if I brought Aunt Louisa the pieces of fabric, ones that were the right size for Eliza Rose, she could make the dresses more quickly.”

“You were supposed to _show_ me your dresses, Ally, not cut them up,” Louisa comments wryly.

That is all it takes for Ally to burst into tears and throw herself at her mother.

“I was only trying to help!” she sobs. “Nanny wanted me to play on my own so I did. She didn’t say I couldn’t play dressmakers! She didn’t!”

“I would have thought that was obvious,” Adeline murmurs, but as Ally continues to cry bitterly into her skirts, she can’t stay angry at her daughter.

“Oh, hush, darling, it’s all right. It was all a misunderstanding. You were trying to be a big girl and there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s no need to cry so. Come on.”

Exhaling, she lifts Ally into her lap and rocks her daughter gently.

Before long, the little girl has drifted off to sleep in her mother’s arms. Adeline glances at Louisa. The two of them smirk at one another, before bursting into muffled laughter.

“I can’t believe she went that far! Talk about sibling rivalry! I know you were jealous when I was born, but even you didn’t go this far!” Louisa chokes at last.

“Cousin rivalry,” Adeline points out, “This is all your son’s fault, Lu. You’re her favourite aunt. You didn’t really think you could waltz in here with a new baby in your arms and not expect some sort of reaction, did you?”

If Adeline’s voice was harsh, Louisa would spring to Stanley’s defence, but since she is fighting back chuckles, Louisa takes it all in good part.

“Oh, give her here,” she groans, holding out her arms, “I’ll see her to bed. You work out how you’re going to admit this to Charles.”

* * *

“Charles, dear,” Adeline cocks her head to one side, “We may need to juggle the budget this month a bit.”

Charles looks up from his newspaper. He knows that tone in his wife’s voice only too well.

“What’s happened?”

“Er… Well, Ally has just ruined all her dresses at once…” Adeline trails off. Charles’s eyes widen.

“What on earth… How did she manage that?!”

“She was playing dressmakers.”

Adeline knows she ought to be serious, but she can’t keep a straight face.  The mental image of her daughter caught up in a game, even one as destructive as this, is just too adorable to stay angry.

“Dressmakers? With her own clothes? Was Nanny not watching her? Or Hannah? What do we pay them for?” Charles huffs.

“Apparently Stanley was being difficult, and Hannah was on an errand. Nanny asked Ally to play on her own for a bit. To be fair to her, she did. She kept herself entertained for the better part of an hour, which we both know is unusual for our daughter.”

“I doubt Nanny expected her to play dressmakers,” Charles sighs, sucking the stem of his pipe. Adeline gets up and walks around behind him to rest her chin on the top of his head as she puts her hands on his shoulders to rub them.

“Don’t be too angry with her, dear,” she wheedles, “She was only trying to be a big girl. And she wanted to help Louisa by giving her the fabrics to make dresses for her new doll that matched hers. Although what Louisa is supposed to do with those rags, I have no idea. It’s a good job she’s a decent seamstress.”

Adeline has to stop talking before she breaks down into undignified laughter again. Thankfully, Charles has a large enough soft spot for his only daughter to see the funny side as well. His eyes twinkle momentarily – not for long, but long enough for Adeline to spot it in the mirror above the fireplace.

“Was she at least sorry about it?”

“Cried herself to sleep in my arms,” Adeline assures her husband.

There is a pause. At last, Charles exhales.

“Well, I suppose there’s nothing to be done now, is there? We can’t exactly let the girl run around naked. Very well. Take her shopping tomorrow. But for heaven’s sake, order the next set of dresses big, so that she can at least wear them for more than a couple of months before she grows out of them.”


	9. Fireworks ( Five)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I was going to write a scene at the dressmakers', but that didn't quite happen. This came out instead. It's about time poor Edward snapped over his mother's favouritism, don't you think? Enjoy!

Blenheim’s rolling, manicured lawns are full of guests laughing and mingling as they wait for it to get dark enough to set off the fireworks. Louisa Spencer-Churchill, daughter-in-law to the Duke, and her family are no exception. Louisa is in the thick of things, holding court on the top terrace. Her light laughter rises on the summer air as she works the crowd admirably.

Further down the lawn, her little niece Alexandra is doing the same, revelling in the fact that she is one of the few children allowed to stay up for the party. Wearing a ruffled frock of cream organdie with a wide blue velvet sash, one really far too grand for a child of five, she skips among the guests, colour high in her cheeks as she begs for sips of the pretty-coloured drinks in the adults’ high, fluted glasses…

 The maids watch askance as she tugs on her father’s arm, by necessity more attuned to the uncertain vagaries of an overtired, over-excited child’s mood than Charles Rowland is.

“Please, Papa! Just a sip, please? It looks so pretty. I want some!”

“Ally, you won’t like it, sweetheart. I learnt to drink it in India. It’s really strong,” Charles sighs, knowing even as he speaks that he won’t be able to refuse his little girl if she keeps pleading with him.

“Yes, I will. Mama let me try hers. I liked that. And I liked Aunt Louisa’s too. I’ll like yours too, I promise. Please, just a sip?”

Cocking her head to one side, Alexandra flutters her eyelids at her father the way she’s seen her mother do. The movement is both so innocent and so adult that the men around her can’t help but laugh.

“Golly, she’s learning young, isn’t she? She’ll be a charmer when she’s older, that’s for sure!”

“Do you really expect anything else, with Adeline and Louisa Butler her mother and aunt?”

“Oh, go on, Charles. One sip won’t hurt her, and it’s not as if any harm can come to her here.”

“I rather think she’s had more than a sip already… I know Louisa’s having champagne and Adeline is probably on either the sloe gin or the madeira by now,” Charles mutters, but as Alexandra begins to pout, tears threatening, he exhales. Blenheim’s Midsummer party is hardly the time or the place for her to throw a fit over being denied what she wants.

“Just a taste then.”

He scoops the little girl into his free arm and tilts his glass to her lips.

“Thank you, Papa!”

Before anyone can stop her, Alexandra has taken a huge gulp of her father’s gin and tonic.

Blinking slightly, Charles doesn’t know how to react before his daughter is squirming to be let down to play. Charles obeys automatically and she runs off in pursuit of her older brother, leaving a half-stunned group behind her.

“She’s got some nerve,” one of them mutters, and Charles, still rather shocked at his daughter’s behaviour, can only nod.

“Ally has her mother’s spirit in abundance,” he mumbles.

* * *

Alexandra, meanwhile, is riding high on triumph. Flushed, she scrambles up on to the broad lip of one of Blenheim’s many ornamental fountains.

“I’m the Queen of the Castle! Ned, I’m the Queen of the Castle and you’re the dirty rascal!” she squeals.

“Ally, no! Get down from there!” Ned spins round, wide-eyed at his little sister’s daring, “We’re not allowed to climb on the fountains! You know that!”

“No. Come up with me!” Alexandra tilts her chin defiantly.

“No! We’ll get into trouble! Anyway, what if we fall?”

At her brother’s question, Alexandra looks as scornful as only a rebellious five-year-old who knows she can do no wrong in her mother’s eyes can.

“Scaredy-cat! Scaredy-cat! Ned’s a silly scaredy-cat!” she sings.

Normally, Ned would ignore his little sister, so inured is he to her taunts. But this is no ordinary day and, though he hasn’t had nearly as much alcohol as little Alexandra has, the heat and the excitement of being allowed to stay up past bedtime have got to him too. Something in him snaps.

With an unexpected roar, he rushes forward and shoves her, catching her full in the chest.

Mouth opening wide into a scream, she falls backwards into the fountain.

* * *

The almighty splash catches the adults unawares. Nonetheless, with a mother’s unerring instinct, Adeline is on her feet before the scream has even fully died away.

“Ally!”

Thrusting her glass at the nearest maid, she begins to run, heedless of who sees. However, her brother-in-law is closer, as well as fleeter of foot. He is the one who pulls Alexandra from the water, who cradles the sobbing girl to his chest and begins to sprint back up to the house.

“Louisa! Get a towel, for God’s sake, or she’ll catch her death. She’s sopping wet!”

Louisa needs no second urging, sending a maid running indoors with no more than a look. Adeline, meanwhile, intercepts Frederick, frantic arms outstretched.

“Ally, darling, what happened?” She snatches the little girl from her rescuer’s arms, not caring that her chiffon frock, too, will be soaked through in an instant.

“Mama! Mama!”

Shocked and cold, Alexandra can only think to wail, face burrowed into her mother’s shoulder.

“Hush, it’s all right. Hush. You’re safe now. Mama’s got you. Mama’s got you,” Adeline croons, as she sinks into a hastily proffered garden chair.

The other ladies at the party crowd round, clucking.

“Oh, the poor lamb! How on earth could she have fallen in like that? She must be so cold. Here, put my shawl around her.”

“Yes, what did happen, Ally?” Louisa urges, as she kneels to wrap a large fluffy towel around the little girl’s shoulders. Charles watches approvingly from a distance. He loves Adeline, but there is no denying that the middle Butler sister has always been the one better able to keep her head in a crisis.

It takes a few moments, but, with everyone fussing around her, it doesn’t take long before Alexandra’s confidence is restored.

“Ned pushed me,” she sniffles, turning injured eyes on her mother, expecting her to fix the situation, as she has always done before.

Predictably, Adeline stiffens at the slight to her youngest.

“Edward James! Come here! Now!”

Her voice rings out harshly in the night air. Her younger son, just weeks away from being sent to join his older brother at Rugby, knows better than to ignore her. Unfortunately for him, even though he comes instantly, Adeline is so furious that she starts berating him before he is even within arm’s length.

What on earth did you think you were doing? Pushing Ally like that – you know better. You know you’re far too strong for her. She’s only little.”

If this were any usual day, Ned would probably just take the scolding, but somehow, today, it simply seems too unfair. Ally was the one who broke the rules first! And she was mean to him!

“But Mama -”

Adeline won’t hear of it. She cuts Ned off before he can say another word.

“No, Edward! Ally could have been seriously hurt! She could have drowned. Get inside. You’re going to bed!”

“But! That’s not fair! Mama, please! The fireworks -”

Ned is on the verge of tears. Adeline, however, is implacable.

“You lost your right to stay up and see those the moment you pushed your sister. Get inside. I don’t want to hear another peep out of you until morning!”

Suddenly, Ned can’t take it anymore. Why is Ally Mama’s favourite, when she’s always so horrid? Why is he always the one getting into trouble, when he breaks far less rules than his little sister ever does?

“I hate you!” he screams, blood rushing to his cheeks. Adeline rears back in shock, but Ned isn’t finished yet. “You always take her side! Always! She’s horrid to me and you never care! Never! I hate you! I hate you!”

Then, he is gone, tearing away across the lawn before he can be punished for his outburst.


	10. Governess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may yet do another part to this, but for now, it's time to show how the household is changing as Ally grows up :)

Now that Ned has joined Davey at Rugby, it only makes sense to dismiss Katherine Woodrow and have Miss Gordon and Hannah tend to Ally between them. Ally is really too old to have a nanny, now that she’s five, and besides, there are the financial implications to be considered. Reluctant though they are to admit it, having two boys at Rugby is stretching Charles’s wages rather, especially with all the little extras the boys are always writing home for – new oil for their cricket bats, pocket money for tucker in the town, new linen handkerchiefs to replace lost ones and so on and so forth... Dismissing Katherine will save them a good £15 a year, even if they have to up Hannah’s wages to reflect her new share of the nursery duties.

So yes, letting Katherine go, after eleven years of loyal service, makes sense. But Adeline can’t deny that it is more of a wrench than she had thought it might be. And Ally, poor thing, seems to be sensing it. She’s more fractious than usual, much harder to pacify or distract.

This morning is a good example. With the weather still so bright for September, Adeline had thought it might be a good idea to officially introduce her to Miss Gordon in the garden, where the two can get to know each other better in a more relaxed atmosphere than the schoolroom.

However, rather than sitting nicely beside her, Ally is up and down like a little jack-in-the-box, pulling at her skirts and wriggling and whining.

“But Mama, I _know_ Miss Gordon. She’s taught Ned and Davey for years! I want to play hopscotch. Come and play hopscotch! Mama!”

Adeline sighs and scoops her fidgety daughter on to her lap, trying to soothe her by stroking her hair the way she likes.

“I know you know her, darling, but now that you’re a big girl, it’s time you met her properly so she can teach you to be big and clever like Mama and Aunt Louisa. You do want to be a clever girl, don’t you?”

“No! I want to play hopscotch!”

Ally kicks irritably, glowering and pouting and Adeline’s heart sinks. Where on earth is Miss Gordon? She won’t be able to keep Ally amused for much longer. In the end, she resorts to the one thing that always works. Bribery.

“If you stay here and greet Miss Gordon as nicely as I know you can, I’ll play hopscotch with you afterwards, all right? I promise.”

Ally considers this, her little lip jutting out and her eyes dark.

“And the piano. I want to play the piano as well.”

“But darling, Mama’s got her ‘At Home’ this afternoon. I won’t have time to play the piano today. Perhaps we could play the music game tomorrow?”

“No! I want to play it today!”

“But Ally…”

“Today!”

Ally screams, her big brown eyes filling with tears. She begins to thrash in Adeline’s arms, threatening to throw herself on the ground.

Adeline’s heart misses a beat as her daughter’s distress ramps up. She can’t have Ally throwing a fit now, not moments before she meets her new governess. Not when she’s given orders for her to be dressed so carefully for the occasion. What will Miss Gordon think, if Ally meets her with tears and tangled hair and mud down her frock from throwing herself on the ground?

“All right, all right. Quieten down and greet Miss Gordon nicely and I promise we’ll play hopscotch and then the piano. Just hush, sweetheart, please. Hush.” Adeline says quickly, even though her heart sinks as she does so. Ally does so love her music. If Adeline ever agrees to play the piano with her, she’ll demand all her favourites at least half a dozen times before she’s satisfied. How Adeline’s going to juggle that with her ‘At Home’, she has no idea. Hopefully, all the visitors will seize Ally’s attention and she’ll forget about music, especially if they fuss over her.

To Adeline’s relief, her words sink in. Sometimes, if Ally’s too upset, even yielding doesn’t calm her down. She’s too busy screaming. But thankfully, Adeline has caught her in the moments before she works herself up to that extent. Her tears stop as quickly as a tap being turned off and she purrs contentedly, snuggling back into Adeline’s arms.

“Yes, Mama,” she murmurs, her eyes shining, “Thank you, Mama! I love you.”

“And I you, sweetheart,” Adeline replies, her heart melting. How could she ever have tried to refuse this darling anything?

Moments later, Miss Gordon joins them.

* * *

Hope Gordon has in fact been in the garden for some time. She’s just been hiding in the shadows, honestly curious to watch the dynamics between Adeline Rowland and her youngest. Oh, she’s known for a while that little Miss Alexandra is her mother’s favourite. The Mistress has made no bones about that. But she’s never actually paid much attention to how they are together. Why would she? The young Masters have been her charges, not the baby of the family. But now these dynamics are crucial to how she chooses to handle the young daughter of the house.

Hope doesn’t like what she sees. Miss Alexandra is clearly a petulant little thing, only too used to getting her own way. And the Mistress seems almost scared of her, certainly of her tears and temper. That’s going to require some very careful handling.

But Hope has heard enough of Nanny Woodrow’s grumbles to know better than to let her disquiet show on her face. Besides, it isn’t fair to allow anyone else’s opinion of the child to colour her first impressions of Miss Alexandra. That would definitely start them off on the wrong foot.

As such, she musters a polite smile as she curtsies, “You wanted to see me, Ma’am?”

“Ah, Miss Gordon, at last,” The Mistress looks up and makes a sort of fluttering motion with one hand, “I was wondering what had happened to you. Come here, I need to officially introduce you to Miss Alexandra.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Hope nods, “How do you do, Miss Alexandra?”

She smiles down at the little girl, who, to her credit, immediately jumps off her mother’s lap and attempts to curtsy back, “I’m very well, thank you, Miss Gordon. How do you do?”

As she speaks, Miss Alexandra favours Hope with a blazing smile. Despite herself, Hope finds her heart melting for a moment. That little girl will be such a beauty when she’s older, even if she’s not classically fair. She smiles back.

“Very well, thank you. I look forward to teaching you when we start lessons tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Miss Gordon.”

The words are pure sweetness and light. As soon as they are out of her mouth, however, Alexandra clearly feels she’s done her duty by her new governess and returns to pulling at her mother’s arm.

“Mama! Mama! I’ve met Miss Gordon now, so can we _please_ play hopscotch?”

Hope expects Mistress Adeline to scold her daughter for interrupting the spiel she’s just begun on what kind of lessons she expects her daughter to be taught, but she doesn’t. Instead, she rolls her eyes indulgently.

“Very well, Ally. You have been waiting a while, haven’t you? Come on then.”

Indeed, it is only as an afterthought that the other woman glances back at Hope and suggests, “Perhaps Miss Gordon would like to play too?”

“Oh, yes, Miss Gordon! You play too!” Miss Alexandra pounces on the chance to have yet another playmate and shocked though she is by the Mistress’s casual tolerance of her daughter’s whims, Hope can’t quite bring herself to say no. After all, more time to observe her new charge can only be to her advantage, surely?

“I’d be very pleased to, Miss Alexandra,” she agrees. The little girl beams and, within minutes, the three of them are engrossed in the game.

* * *

“I wish you didn’t have to go, Nanny,” Alexandra’s voice is slurred with exhaustion, but she still keeps forcing her eyes to flicker open, as she curls into the bosom of the woman who has been a second mother figure to her since she was born, “I don’t want you to go.”

Katherine chuckles lightly, shifting in the rocking chair and pushing back a loose lock of the child’s dark hair. Miss Gordon was supposed to be the one putting the child to bed tonight, to prepare her for the fact that, come the morning, Katherine will be leaving to take up a new position and Miss Gordon will have charge of her. But Alexandra had refused to have any of it, kicking and screaming and crying for Katherine until, resistance worn to shreds in the face of the child’s distress, her nanny had taken her on her knee in front of the fire, stroking her hair. And, if she’s honest with herself, Katherine is secretly pleased at the turn events have taken. As horrific as Miss Alexandra can be, she is equally capable of turning on the charm when she wants to. It is moments like these, when the little girl is content and affectionate, that Katherine will remember most fondly in the years to come.

“I know the change is scary, Miss Alexandra,” she says softly, “But you’re a big girl now. You don’t need me anymore. You’ll be fine with Miss Gordon.”

“No, I won’t. She can’t do things right like you do. I don't want you to go!”

For a moment, Katherine catches her breath. So, she does things right, does she? You wouldn’t know, with the amount Miss Alexandra creates on a daily basis. Then, knowing the little girl is threatening to burst into tears, as she does only too easily, she steels herself. She has to be strong for the child's sake. She has to make her see the brighter side of growing old enough for a governess.

“Miss Gordon will do some things differently, you’re right. But you’ll simply have to teach her how you want certain things done, won’t you? And Hannah’s staying, isn’t she? So she’ll know how things are done. You’ll be fine, I promise.”

Miss Alexandra murmurs slightly, and Katherine strokes her hair again, cutting off the protest before it can ramp up any further.

“But you’d better get some sleep, hadn’t you? Otherwise, you’ll be in a horrible mood for Miss Gordon tomorrow, and you don’t want that, do you? You’ll be a good girl for her, won’t you?”

Katherine knows she might as well ask for the moon as soon as the words are out of her mouth, but all the same, she expects Miss Alexandra to at least react in some way. However, as the silence stretches on into several moments, she glances down at the little girl. She has to stifle a laugh. For once, Miss Alexandra has done exactly as she’s told.  Even if she is pouting and scowling about it. She’s finally given into her exhaustion and fallen asleep. She is asleep in Katherine’s lap just as she has been a thousand times before.

Katherine knows she should lift the little girl into her arms and carry her to bed, but for once, she can’t quite bring herself to. This is the last time she’ll ever hold this particular girl in her lap in a darkened night nursery, after all. She might as well savour it.


	11. Babies

 

 **“** Mama?” Alexandra’s voice is sleepily content as she looks up at her mother, nestled in Adeline’s arms in the warmth of the master bed’s thick eiderdown.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Adeline strokes her daughter’s hair, her face melting at the sight of her little girl. She does relish being able to take the child into her bed in the morning, now that the boys are no longer here to want to join them or to get jealous when there’s no room for them.

“How did I end up in your tummy?”

As she asks, Alexandra shifts in her mother’s hold so that her dark head is resting on the curve of Adeline’s stomach.

Adeline blinks. That wasn’t the question she’d expected this morning. From one of the boys, maybe, but her sweet little girl has never seemed interested in that sort of thing before. But then, she was there at tea, when Charles told her that his sister Jemima was pregnant again. She’d thought the little girl had been engrossed in her dolls, but maybe she was listening after all.

“Well, Ally,” she considers, buying herself time to think, “The stork brought you. The stork brought you and put you in my tummy when you were still small enough to fit in there, so that I could feed you and help you grow until you were old enough to do it for yourself.”

Reaching down, Adeline taps her daughter’s nose lightly, “And you were trouble from the first day, young lady.”

“Really?” Ally’s eyes light up. She loves hearing stories of what she was like as a baby, and now that Nanny Woodrow has left, there are few members of the household who have either the time or the will to indulge her in such a wish. Her mother, of course, is a blatant exception to that rule.

Adeline chuckles fondly, “Oh, yes. You knew exactly what you wanted, even when you were still inside me. All you would let me eat for the first three months was gingerbread and hot lemon tea.”

“I love gingerbread!” Ally shrieks, squirming eagerly, “Can we have it for tea today? Please, Mama, please?!”

“We’ll see. I’ll have to speak to Cook, but I don’t see why not.”

Ally nods, then turns around towards her mother and clambers up her, wiggling so that she can nestle her head beneath Adeline’s chin, “What else was I like when I was inside you, Mama?”

“Let me see,” Adeline tilts her head as she thinks back to the time six years ago when Ally was nothing more than a seed inside her.

“You were such a fidget-bottom. You never liked keeping still.  You didn’t like it when I kept still either. By the time I was six months along, I couldn’t sit down for ten minutes without you starting to kick. And my goodness, you kicked! I thought I’d have bruises for months, the way you carried on. And if you weren’t kicking, you caused all sorts of other trouble.”

Ally doesn’t say anything, but the way she is hiding her lips behind her hand tells Adeline her little girl is giggling and enjoying the story, so she needs no further encouragement to continue.

“Papa had to rub my back every day for weeks, you were so plump and heavy. You made me hurt, missy. That wasn’t nice.”

“Sorry, Mama,” Ally pouts and Adeline laughs, “I’ve forgiven you. You were worth it. I’m not sure Mary has quite forgiven you for the number of times I called her out of her warm bed to help me use the ladies’ room, though. You did seem to be comfortable right above my bladder.”

As expected, Ally giggles at this. What young child doesn’t find the image of her mother struggling to use the toilet amusing? Adeline lets her have her fun and then nudges her slightly.

“Come along now, it’s time to get up. Miss Gordon will be looking for you.”

Surprisingly, Ally doesn’t whine at the thought of having to go and behave for her governess. She slides out of bed obediently, then hesitates, glancing down at the small pillows that litter her mother’s bed.

“Mama, can I borrow some of these pillows? I want them for a game.”

Adeline doesn’t hesitate. After all, what harm can her daughter do with a couple of cushions?

“Of course you can, sweetheart. Take as many as you like.”

Ally giggles and scoops up the largest, before kissing her mother and running out of the room.

* * *

“Mary, tuck this into my dress,” Alexandra corners the housemaid and holds out the pillow.

Mary looks askance at the little girl. It wouldn’t be the first time she has asked for something, only to push her over as she bends towards her, or to drop a beetle down the front of her dress. Miss Alexandra can be quite spiteful when the mood takes her.

 But the request seems innocent enough this time, so Mary complies, tucking the large cushion down the little girl’s drawers and spreading her pinafore over it so that it looks as though her stomach has ballooned overnight.

“What are you up to, Miss Alexandra?”

“I’m having a baby!”

The little girl’s eyes gleam and Mary can’t help but laugh.

“Are you now? Well, you will keep Hannah and Miss Gordon busy, won’t you? They’ll have to take extra special care of you today, won’t they? Are you having a boy or a girl?”

“A girl. I’m going to call her Louisa!”

“After your aunt, hmm? What a pretty name!”

Mary finishes securing the pillow in place and pats the little mistress on the head before letting her go and hurrying off to her own duties in the Mistress’s room. As she goes, she thanks the Lord that she's not one of the nursery staff, particularly not today. Miss Alexandra might be a darling, but she isn’t half a handful. Hannah and Miss Gordon will be run ragged by bedtime, there’s no doubt of that.

* * *

Hope Gordon isn’t blind to the fact that Miss Alexandra is playing some sort of game. How could she be, when the little girl has waddled into the schoolroom with a cushion tucked under her dress?

But she’s always been adamant that, amusing as games are, they have little place during lessons. As such, she ignores the extra appendage as best she can, and begins writing out words for Miss Alexandra to copy.

What she can’t ignore, however, is how, every few minutes, the little girl will gasp, wriggle furiously and put her hand to her cushion, thereby breaking what little concentration she is able to muster.

Hope lets it slide the first couple of times, but by the third, she has had enough.

“Sit still, please, Miss Alexandra,” she warns, “You need to concentrate.”

“But I can’t, Miss Gordon! Louisa’s kicking!”

“Louisa?” Hope arches an eyebrow.

Miss Alexandra nods, “My baby! Feel her!”

Without waiting for an answer, she jumps up and thrusts her cushion under Hope’s hand.

“See? She’s kicking! She doesn’t like it when I sit still!”

Hope sighs and gently disengages herself. It seems she’ll have to play along after all, if only a little. Otherwise Miss Alexandra will sink into another one of her moods and Hope hasn’t got the strength to try teaching her when she’s in a mood again. The last occasion is still too seared into her mind for that.

“Well, that’s a shame, Miss Alexandra, because I do. And you won’t be able to write to Davey and Ned unless you sit still. Do you think Louisa can go to sleep for a while so you can write to your brothers?”

Miss Alexandra pauses and cocks her head. It takes a few moments, but eventually the lure of being allowed to write to her beloved big brothers on a day other than Sunday wins out.

“Only for a while,” she says at last, “She won’t sleep through arithmetic. I know she won’t!”

And Hope knows that is that. She’ll move mountains faster than she will persuade Alexandra of the necessity of arithmetic. Still, she’s won a battle, of sorts, so she yields.

“Very well. Settle yourself down and we’ll see what we can think of to tell Davey and Ned, shall we?”

* * *

The kitchen is steaming with the scent of hot, fresh gingerbread when Cook spots a certain dark head peeping round the green baize door.

“Hello, Miss Alexandra,” she laughs, “I swear to God you have a nose like a hound when it comes to gingerbread."

“Gingerbread! Can I have some?!” Miss Alexandra lights up at the mention of her favourite treat and bounds into the kitchen.

“It’s for your Papa’s tea, not for you, Miss. But, since you’re here, you may as well have a glass of lemonade, hmm?”

Cook bustles around, pouring the little girl a tall glass of elderflower lemonade. She even places a large raisin biscuit on the table beside the glass, knowing those are another of the little mistress’s favourite treats.

“Does Miss Gordon know where you are? Or Hannah?” she asks, as she passes the child her bounty. Honestly, she shouldn’t spoil the girl so, but there is something in those big brown eyes it is impossible to resist.

As usual, Miss Alexandra shrugs.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

Silence falls for a few moments, during which Cook signs to Mary.

 _“Go and find Miss Gordon before she goes spare,”_ she mouths, before turning her attention back to the daughter of the house. To her surprise, although Miss Alexandra is gulping down the lemonade, she hasn’t touched her biscuit.

“Are you not hungry today, Miss Alexandra? It’s not like you not to eat your biscuit.”

“The baby won’t let me eat it. All it will let me eat is gingerbread and lemonade.”

“The baby?” Cook begins to ask, before she catches sight of the pillow around the little girl’s midriff. In seconds, everything falls into place. Cook remembers those hot summer and early autumn months of 1862, when all the Mistress could keep down was gingerbread and lemon tea, only too well.

“Oh, of course, how silly of me,” she chuckles, pushing herself to her feet, “Well, if that’s the case, I’m sure your Papa won’t mind sharing just a few bites of his tea.”

She knows she shouldn’t, but what harm can it do, indulging a young child in her play? She cuts a slender wedge of gingerbread from the large tray; one Miss Alexandra is only too eager to gobble down.

Before long, Miss Gordon appears, flustered and scolding.

“Really, Miss Alexandra! You know better than to wander off like that! Come on, back upstairs with you. Now!”

At other times, being spoken to so sharply would be enough to prompt a flood of tears from the spoilt daughter of the house, but replete and content from having been indulged by the kitchen staff, Miss Alexandra is only too happy to comply. Cook can’t help but notice that she smuggles the raisin biscuit into the pocket of her dress as she is hounded upstairs by her frazzled governess. No doubt she knows only too well that Miss Gordon will try to punish her for wandering off by only allowing her bland food tonight.

* * *

“Han-nah! Han-nah!”

Alexandra whines her nursery maid’s name as she plops down in front of her and stretches her arms up. It is a scene heavily reminiscent of when she was much younger, when she would demand to be picked up and settled on Hannah’s knee or else lifted up and set down as many times as her little heart desired.

Sighing – there is no ignoring her when she speaks in that tone, not without risking a major tantrum – Hannah puts down her mending and picks her up.

“What is it, Miss Alexandra? You know you’re supposed to ask me nicely.”

“You have to rub my back. Louisa’s making me hurt!”

Hannah has to bite her tongue not to say what she really thinks of ‘Louisa’. As if Miss Alexandra wasn’t demanding enough without claiming her ‘baby’ means she needs to be waited on hand and foot. The game was amusing enough for an hour or so this morning. Why couldn’t the child have dropped it as quickly as she does every other game? That would have been fine. But no. The game has lasted all day, and by now, Hannah is heartily sick of it. Bedtime cannot come soon enough.

“Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that. Let’s see if I can make you better,” she croons, thanking the heavens that Miss Alexandra is too young to truly note the sarcastic undertone to her voice. She begins to move her hands over the little girl’s lower back, as she has done countless times before over the course of the day. Even as she does so, she knows what is coming next.

Miss Alexandra relaxes for a moment or two and then gasps and wiggles, “Oh! She’s kicking! She’s kicking! Feel her, feel her!”

Hannah obediently puts her hand over the cushion and coos, as though she really can feel a baby kicking. Miss Alexandra giggles and squeals, then pushes at Hannah’s hands.

“Rub my back! Rub my back!”

Hannah sighs and does as she’s told. Rather that than refuse and be forced to be pretend to help Miss Alexandra to the toilet, as she made the mistake of doing at lunchtime.

Momentarily satisfied, the little girl leans back into her. Hannah glances up at the clock. Only half an hour to go till bedtime.

 

 


	12. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, I used to play a game very similar to the one Ally plays in this chapter myself when I was about a year younger than she is. Fortunately not near a pond. But that is where I got the inspiration from... I know Hope is being horrible, but I can't really bring myself to blame her!

“Stop pushing your doll’s pram so hard, Miss Alexandra. You’ll lose control of it and then it will break,” Hope Gordon looks up from her book, the scolding already on her lips. She knows without looking what game Miss Alexandra will be playing in the park today. Miss Alexandra always plays ‘Pushing Kitty as hard as I can’ when she is in a bad mood.

And she is in a bad mood today. There seems to be no real reason for it, but she has been hot and cross all morning, stamping her feet and spilling her ink throughout her morning lessons. Even writing and history, her usual favourites, were a challenge. Arithmetic, difficult at the best of times, was nothing short of disastrous. She made silly guesses to simple sums she really knows the answer to, and threw a five-minute-long tantrum when Hope, pushed to the brink of her patience, remonstrated with her.

Hence why Hope, despite Alexandra’s screams and pleas to the contrary, has insisted she bring her rag doll Kitty in the pram today rather than her favourite china doll Eliza Rose. At least the rag doll won’t break from the mistreatment.

Alexandra glances back at Hope, hesitates for a moment, then sticks her tongue out, tossing her dark hair slightly.

“Miss Alexandra!” Hope springs to her feet, unable to leave such rudeness unchallenged.

Before she can reach the little girl, however, Alexandra shoves the doll’s pram away from her at full force.

 Hope catches her by the wrist just a fraction of a second too late.

It races away down the hill and Alexandra laughs in triumph. She glances up at Hope as if to say, “ _See? I’ll do what I want. You can’t do a thing about it!”_

Moments later, however, her triumph turns to fear. Normally, she’d be running down the hill by now, laughing as she raced after her toy, striving to catch it before it fell into the pond at the bottom of the hill and sank.

With Hope’s hand on her arm, however, she can’t do that.

She gasps, struggling to free herself.

“Miss Gordon!” she shrieks.

Hope shakes her head. “No, Miss Alexandra. If I’ve told you not to do that once, I’ve told you a thousand times. Watch and see what happens. Then maybe you’ll learn why I keep telling you not to do it.”

Part of Hope knows she is on dangerous ground, punishing Miss Alexandra in the heat of her anger, rather than waiting until she herself is calmer.  But she can’t help herself. The little girl has never had to face consequences in her life. She never will, if any sort of serious punishment is left to the Mistress, the way it is technically supposed to be. Hopefully, a shock as sharp as this one will teach Miss Alexandra to listen to instructions, even if only for a while.

Eventually, the inevitable happens. The pram tumbles into the deep waters of the pond and sinks without a trace.

Alexandra is lucky in one respect, however. Her pram hits a grassy hillock just before the pond, meaning that it tips over just before it gets there. Her doll, therefore, is flung wide and saved the sinking.

“Kitty!” Miss Alexandra’s eyes are wide, her scream one of pure anguish. Hope hesitates, but then reasons that the little one has been horrified enough. She lets her go.

Alexandra flies down the hill as though all the hounds of hell are after her. She snatches the doll from the grass and cuddles it close, sobbing into its soft woollen hair, which is rather thinner than it once was, after years of being an infant’s favourite plaything.

Hope watches for a moment or two, but she’s not by nature a cruel woman. She’s just been pushed beyond the realms of human patience today and reacted instinctively to the straw that broke the camel’s back. As her fury ebbs, so does her satisfaction at the sight of the crying child.

She doesn’t linger after that, swooping down to carry the little girl off home before everyone in the park is able to see just how distressed Miss Alexandra is.

 The closer they get to home, however, the heavier a burden Hope’s conscience becomes. Miss Alexandra is still sobbing as though her heart will break. She hadn’t expected the shock to scare her that much. Besides, if the Mistress sees her precious daughter this upset, there will be hell to pay.

Glancing at the town hall clock as they turn the corner into their road, Hope exhales slightly in relief. Three in the afternoon. The mistress should still be out paying calls. With any luck, she’ll get Miss Alexandra upstairs and washed and dressed for her hour with her parents without anyone seeing what a state the child is in. Well, Mary will see her, but the servants know better than to interfere with Hope’s raising of Miss Alexandra. They know it’s not their place. They won’t say a word. Indeed, Hope would like to think that they might even support her in her actions. After all, a spoilt daughter of the house makes their lives more difficult too.

Unfortunately for Hope, just as she is opening the gate to the front steps, the Mistress’s carriage draws up behind them.

“Ah, Ally, sweetheart! Miss Gordon! Have you been to the park?”

Mistress Adeline calls out to them gaily as she unlatches the carriage door and begins to alight.

At the sound of her mother’s voice, Miss Alexandra whirls round.

“Mama!”

In an instant, she is in her mother’s arms, sobbing all the harder.

Hope has to bite back a sigh. Miss Alexandra might have calmed down, if she could only have got her into the house and distracted her with some of her other toys. It’s not even as if the little girl really plays with her rag doll all that much anymore. Her china doll is by far her favourite. That or her rocking horse. But now she has a sympathetic audience, she’ll only work herself up all the more, twist the story into something far more bitter than it ever actually was.

Hope knows better than to try to override her little charge, however. She’s been tripped up like that too many times already in the scant few months she’s been Miss Alexandra’s governess.

Instead, she simply makes a curtsy, which is ignored by the mother fussing over her weeping daughter and slips inside to divest herself of her hat, gloves and coat.


End file.
